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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 6 months ago

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pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

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the-froschamethyst4 · 11 months ago

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The dog protects you

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Ghost Headconon

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When Simon was in the military he brings home a friend

Riley the German Shepherd

Since Riley is a grade A military dog, and is learned to protect his handler now owner at all times. Simon now trains him into protecting his home

There was once when Simon was away, he gave Riley a command on protecting you and the house

And someone tried to break in while he was away but luckily for the robber he got a scary dog waiting for him on the other side

You know those ring doorbell cameras, yeah you have one and sent the video of the aftermath of the robber running away from Riley

“Soap, Price come see what Y/n sent me,” he calls

He walks to Price’s office showing him the video of the robber running down the street with Riley hot on his tail and Y/n coming out to call for Riley to come back which he does immediately

They all laugh at the stupid robber and clapped for Riley

When Simon comes home, Riley is somewhere with you, in your home office he’s at the door with his back towards you making sure you are protected

Riley use to have to follow Ghost around but now he’s home he follows you around now (it slightly makes Simon jealous)

“LOVE?! RILEY?! I’M HOME!!” Simon calls

You come downstairs and Riley picks up on how excited you are and jumps for joy when his other comes back home

“Did you see the video?”

“Oh yeah, good boy Riley,” he says patting the dogs head

When you fell pregnant it was like a switch happened in Riley to where now he doesn’t even want Simon near you

You on the couch Riley is by your feet growling at Simon to sit farther away. Simon has kicked Riley outside a couple of times so he could get close to you

“Don’t be mean Simon,” you say letting Riley back in who barked at Simon for throwing him outside

“I want to touch you, I can’t with him in the way,” he pouts gesturing to the dog

“He’s confused, he thinks you’re going to hurt me.”

“But I’m not.”

“I know, he just doesn’t get it.”

When you sleep Riley is sleeping between you two, Simon tries to get him off the bed knowing he’s not supposed to be on the bed, Riley doesn’t listen but only listens to Y/n

“Riley down,” Simon says sternly. “Riley!” Simon sounded like a dad getting frustrated with his child not listening to him

“Riley, down boy,” Y/n says calmly and Riley gets off with ease and sits next to Y/n letting her pet his head

“What the hell?!” Simon says, confused, you only giggle at Simon

Riley becomes very gentle once the baby is born. Simon and you try to introduce Riley to the newborn slowly as possible

“Riley, easy,” Simon says as Riley walks closer to Y/n holding the newborn in her arms

Riley sniffs the baby’s head and looks up at Y/n if he’s allowed to be this close

Y/n pats his head “it’s okay Riley.”

Riley then sniffs the baby all around trying to get use to the baby’s scent. Simon watches his dog that was supposed to be tough and scary become all lovable

Riley rested his head on Y/n’s knee smelling the baby some more

As the baby grew up Riley became more of the baby’s protector

When they started to learn how the walk Riley was like their walker for a little bit. The baby would hang onto Riley so they could walk

Riley would sometimes even save the baby from falling off the couch a couple of times luckily Y/n and Simon also saw the baby before they almost fell off

Riley slept in the baby’s nursery to protect them

This one might bring us to tears

When Riley starts getting older, Simon hates seeing his dog go from an active dog that saved him numerous times to becoming so old that he can barely go down the stairs anymore

Riley was loved by the family even some of Simon's friends

The dogs white face panting like he ran a marathon, you child playing with him the most they can before he's gone, Simon trying to spend his last few days with Riley, seeing if he'd will be willing up for taking his daily walk

"You're a good dog, Riley...you did a good job protecting us," Simon says, sitting on the porch with his dog next to him laying on his side "You are defiantly my best friend, Riley," Simon tells the dog

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost

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prettypixels22 · 11 months ago

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Headcanons for spending Christmas with call of duty characters

(feat. simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, john price,

kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, phillip graves)

a/n: for context, in each section you’re referenced to have kids with each character and, although not explicitly stated, the reader is implied to be a homebody but these headcanons are kept gender neutral. if you continue to read, i hope you enjoy.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Christmas is the best time for him to show how much he appreciates you and the kids

He’s not a bad parent, he’s always been very good with the kids

He provides for you all and takes care of them the best he can but he knows he can be emotionally distant at times

He can handle most situations involving his kids but when they get upset or argue with each other, he struggles and has to rely on you to help them

It’s not that he doesn’t want to emotionally connect with them, he just isn’t sure how and he’s not used to talking about his feelings

So gift giving is a good way for him to express that he does care and love you all

He likes both receiving and gifting things that are homemade or sentimental, he enjoys those kinds of gifts because they are specific to your little family and that makes it so special to him

Skulls become like a trademark to your family and tiny skull symbols are hidden in most gifts, wether it be a carving on a wooden item, an engraving on a piece of jewelry, an embroidery on fabric or even woven into those little bracelets kids like to make

Speaking of skulls, your kids definitely have skull designed sky masks that they used to stay warm when they play in the snow

The kids sit on the same sled and have Ghost pull them around, it’s so heart warming seeing your partner and children play while wearing the same masks like they’re a little family of ghosts

When your children go to bed, you talk to Simon about something they’ve been telling you recently, “The kids want a dog.”

You bring it up during one of those intimate times when he’s not wearing his mask and you feel like you can read his mind

Instead of the blank stare you usually see when all of his features, save for his eyes, are covered, you can see the slight changes in his expression

His eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenches, you can’t tell he doesn’t think it’s a good idea

“We can name him Riley,” you joke, “He can be our guard dog and protect us when you’re not around.”

Although you weren’t being serious, he actually started warming up to the idea

It wouldn’t be a puppy though, he’d take you to look at retired military dogs

There was one you two took a particular liking to, a german shepherd, he was a nice dog and in need of a good home but he also had the proper training to be able to protect you and the kids if need be

The kids loved him, of course, and he was very gentle with them, wagging his tail while they hugged and pet him

You ended up falling asleep to a Christmas movie, your family cuddled up together on the couch with your new dog

John “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny loves Christmas and eagerly waits for it to come around every year

There’s always a mountain of gifts around the Christmas tree

Half of the presents he bought, he purchased all the way back in January

He just gets so giddy seeing you and the kids enjoy his gifts that he immediately wants buy more after Christmas is over

Then when it finally gets close to December, you two have your kids’ Christmas lists to deal with

You two have to start wrapping them, at least, a week in advance because there’s no way you’re getting them all done in one night

Especially when you have to wait for the kids, who are pumped full of sugar from eating too many Christmas cookies, to go to sleep

So they get double the gifts and on top of that they get even more when you visit the MacTavish family (which is huge by the way)

Speaking of, when you do visit his family, you get to sit inside by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa with his parents and sisters and watch from the window while Soap takes your kids outside to play with their cousins and uncles in the snow

You get a front row seat to the comical scene of Johnny being hit with a snowball and dramatically collapsing to the grown, a swarm of children climbing over him and playfully attacking

He will play outside with his kids for hours, having snowball fights, building snowmen, sledding

He’d love to take them snowboarding one day, if only the military would grant him enough leave time to take them to a ski resort

While your kids play with their nieces and nephews, Soap will definitely try to sneak you away for some “alone time”

If you object to this and tell him him that you two need to go back and watch your kids, he’ll pull you into an empty room, large hands cradling your face as he tries to bargain with you, “Just lemme give you a quick kiss, bonnie. Hmm?”

But it’s never just a “quick kiss” and you don’t know how you keep falling for that

He’s so sweet when he’s affectionate, he’ll slow dance with you by the fireplace or run you a nice relaxing bath with rose petals, it’s a romantic and intimate way of showing you how much he loves you

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Since joining task force 141, he’s had to spend more time away from you and the kids then he’s used to

He misses you all a lot when he’s away but it makes each Christmas that much more special because he has to cherish every second he spends with you and your children

You two usually plan for Christmas together but since he’s been away you do most of the planning and he helps as much as he can when he finally returns home

If you’re cooking something and he knows what ingredient you’ll need next, he’ll grab it for you and set it on the counter before you even have the chance to ask

He also keeps the kids distracted so you can focus on dinner by building gingerbread houses with them, which were a lot harder than he was anticipating and by the time they got the house to stand, there were globs of frosting everywhere with gumdrops and mints scattered across the kitchen table

He cleans it all up though along with any mess you might’ve made while cooking dinner, he cleans the dishes and pans that you’ve used so you don’t have to worry about it later and wipes down the counter

You’re more excited than usual to invite your in-laws to Christmas Dinner

You’ve grown super close to them since Gaz joined Task Force 141, they were your rock during his absence

If you ever needed help with the kids or were just lonely, they would welcome you into their home with open arms

You’d sit with them and talk about how you missed Gaz or how good of a father and partner he was

They’d reminisce about raising him and the childhood they worked so hard to provide for him, going through a photo album of baby Kyle and explaining the backstory behind each picture

Throughout the dinner Gaz sees how close you’ve gotten with his family and it’s not just you, his kids have also grown accustomed to seeing their grandparents regularly

That Christmas is so hard for him because he just wants to be able to be with you and kids again

He knew what he was getting into when he joined 141 and he still believes in the cause but seeing his family get along and be happy makes it a challenge for him not to go back to the SAS

“You know I love you, right?” He’ll ask after dinner. He start saying it a lot more often because if something does happen to him, he doesn’t want their to be a doubt in your mind about how much he loves you and the kids

As the end of his leave time approaches, he kisses you nonstop and holds you and the kids tight, knowing he’ll have to say goodbye soon

John Price

Every year there’s at least one gift that relates to the military

It all started when your son wrote that he wanted nerf guns on his Christmas list one year

That Christmas you and your husband watched your son and daughter go to war with one another, running around the house and hiding under tables, trying to shoot each other with foam bullets

Price thought it was hilarious and the kids clearly enjoyed it, so he started gifting them foam weapons and toy sets with fake knives, grenades and binoculars

He enjoys watching his kids play with each other and was particularly amused one day when your son was army crawling around in the grass trying to sneak up on his sister

That next Christmas he got your son a ghillie suit which he became absolutely infatuated with

You’d call the kids in for dinner and your son would walk in looking like a mountain of grass

That one gift was what started the tradition of gifting actual military gear

While your daughter just likes getting things she and her brother can play together with, your son becomes interested in actual military equipment

His Christmas lists will start to include things like a tact helmet or vest

One time, he got them both night vision goggles which sucked for you because when he had to leave the kids wanted to stay up all night and play in the dark

(Side note: His kids have definitely picked up on words that relate to the military and war but they don’t fully know what the words mean so they’ll say things like “homework is propaganda”)

Something oddly specific that Price is thankful for is the fact that the older his kids get, the longer they want to sleep in

He loves watching the kids get excited from seeing the present under the tree and all but he enjoys the few hours he has in the morning where he can just hold you close

You two already don’t get to have a lot of time together because of your husband’s line of work and having two children didn’t help since most of your attention revolves around them

He cherishes the mornings where everything’s calm and quite and you’re curled up in his arms without a care in the world

Kate Laswell

She’s very efficient went it comes to buying the kids Christmas presents

When your kids write their Christmas lists, you two split the responsibility, she buys half and you buy the rest

It minimizes the time you have to spend buying gifts and you two usually get it done early so there’s no last minute present hunting, it makes the process quick and painless

During the week of Christmas, you two would take your kids to a café so they could have sweet treats for breakfast and a nice hot chocolate with a small candy cane to stir the piping liquid

After that you’d walk down the street, checking out different gift and pop-up shops so the kids could get Christmas souvenirs

Kate loves taking pictures of you all during the holidays and would definitely take your kids to get their pictures taken with a mall Santa

All of the photos would go in a photo album she has of all the happy memories and milestones you’ve all had over the years

The night before she has to leave for work again, you two sit on the porch and watch the snow fall

Your ears pick up on the sound of a quite ‘flck’ and you turn to see your wife lighting a cigarette, “Kate.”

A small chuckle escapes her lips, she knows how much you hate when she smokes, “It’s Christmas. Humor me, just this once.”

You don’t want your last night together to be a fight so you don’t push the issue but you don’t hide your disapproval either, “Those things are bad for you.”

She takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers, “Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

You know she has and it’s why you worry each time she’s away, you brush your fingers against her knuckles, “Do you have to go?”

“Unfortunately,” she exhales the smoke from her cigarette, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “But I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

Farah Karim

Similar to Ghost, she’s a good parent but sometimes struggles to connect with them emotionally

Your kids would absolutely adore her though

I mean, she’s the most badass role model any kid could have

They always make sure she’s involved in activities, even if she’s too busy to actual partake

She’ll be talking to one of her soldiers on the phone when, all of a sudden, her kids run up to her to hand her Christmas treats and hot cocoa that they made with you

She tends to think of her brother a lot during the holidays, gifting her kids things that she and Hadir enjoyed as children

She doesn’t ever want them to go through what she went through with her brother, first losing her parent and the Hadir turning on her

She teaches them to respect each other and will immediately shut down any fights they have

She appreciates that you light three candles each Christmas for her brother and parents, it’s a subtle acknowledgment of the family she’s lost without crossing any boundaries or opening up old wounds

Although a big portion of her time is preoccupied by the work she’s does to protect her homeland as well as you and your children, she always makes sure that on the holidays there will be a few days where her focus is solely on you and the kids

The kids eat this up and immediately put her to work, they love having her undivided attention and all the Christmas activities she wasn’t able to do before they have her do now

They’ve already make Christmas cookies with you so they’ll make gingerbread houses with her

I also think that because her soldiers are like family, they’d hold a small ceremony where each each soldier brings their loved ones and they pass around little homemade gifts that they made with their family

On the night of Christmas, you and Farah sit in front of the three candles you had lit, in a few minutes it’ll be twelve am and Christmas will officially be over

”Do you want to have the honor of blowing them out?” you ask

She gives you a soft smile, “I’ll let them burn a little longer.”

She wonders if her parents and brother can see her, if they’re glad to see her living a happy life with you and the kids

You move closer, wrapping an arm around her, “I’m sure they’d be proud of you, Farah. So proud.”

Alex Keller

I feel like he’d be such a good girl dad

On Christmas Eve morning, he’d be laying on his stomach in the living room with his daughters sitting on either side of him

Christmas movies would be playing in the background, his youngest letting him pick the colors for his hundredth friendship bracelet while his oldest crochets a snowman with a red and green scarf

His daughters are very crafty so they’d enjoy decorating the house and Christmas tree

After Thanksgiving when all of the Christmas stuff is on display, you’d take the girls shopping for lights, ornaments, tinsels, etc.

Alex will lift your youngest daughter so she can string up decorations while your oldest tells her if something needs to be moved to the right or left so everything’s perfectly even

They also like frosting Christmas cookies but instead of just slapping random colors on the cookie, they pick colors that look pretty together and try to be as neat as possible which contradicts their fathers hot mess of an icing job

You wouldn’t be surprised if they decided that they wanted to pick up cookie frosting as a hobby

There are things that Alex was able to do before, like run around with the kids in the snow, that he can’t do now because of his prosthetic leg

The girls don’t mind though, they actually go out of their way to make sure he’s comfortable, even treating him like he’s made out of glass at times despite the fact that he’s still actively fights in Urzikstan

But it’s sweet how much they care about their father and his well-being

While you’re cleaning up after dinner, Alex will wrap his arms around you from behind, his mustache tickling your skin as he presses soft kisses to your neck

He thanks you for dinner and tells you how good the food was

In turn, you tell him how much you and the girls miss him while he’s away, you jokingly add on, “I was hoping your leg would be enough to make you retire.”

He laughs at that and promising you that it won’t be long now, soon he’ll finally return to you and the kids for good

Phillip Graves

Considering he and Shadow Company work for whoever has the most money, you know he can afford anything on his kids Christmas list

He’ll send you a large sum of money while he’s away so you won’t have any trouble buying presents and the gifts he get you are usually quite expensive

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, you two message each other nonstop

You talk about what you got the kids, what you’ll be making for Christmas dinner, when he’s coming home, things like that

He’ll send you flirty text like “you know what I want for Christmas?” with a winky face or “Wear something pretty when I come home.”

The kids are always excited when their father comes home, they tell him what they wrote down on their Christmas list and which gifts they’re really hoping they get

He tells them that they better be good if they want all those presents, knowing damn well that you’ve already bought every single thing on those lists

I feel like he’d prefer a real tree over a fake tree for no other reason besides the fact that it looks better so each year he takes the kids to look at Christmas trees and, of course, the kids along with their father always want the biggest most badass looking tree

He’ll bring a tote bin up from the basement that’s full of last year’s Christmas decorations and you’ll all decorate the tree as a family

You cringe each time you watch pine needles fall as you wrap the tree in lights and tinsel, you know it’ll be a pain to clean up when Christmas is over but you let it happen every year anyway because you see how happy it makes your husband and children

When Graves puts the kids down for bed, you know exactly what he’s gonna do next

He exits the kids bedroom, closing the door behind him, and he’s on you in seconds

His lips capture yours in a heated kiss as he walks you towards your shared bedroom

“We need to wrap the kids’ presents-,” you try to remind him but he cuts you off with a kiss and tells you, “We can do that later, baby.”

photo creds (pinterest): goldeagleactual - ghost, soap/price, farah/alex | SimpsxCod - gaz | cavantine - kate | julikuli666 - graves

#cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #kate laswell x reader #farah karim x reader #alex keller x reader #phillip graves x reader

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bellarkeselection · 10 months ago

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Halstead’s Favorite Duo

Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.

My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.

The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.

Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.

“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”

He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”

“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.

Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.

“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.

Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.

Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”

“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.

Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”

“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.

He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”

“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#jay halstead masterlist #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x reader masterlist #jay halstead #k-9 unit #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fic #military dogs #military dog #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

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cllightning81 · 4 months ago

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Babysitting [AL12]

Summary : Your sister asks you to babysit while Arthur is staying over and you couldn't say no.

Pairing/s: Arthur Leclerc x Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Masterlist

Arthur Leclerc Masterlist

Taglist

Coming Soon

A/N: I had to use this gif. The whole video that this gif is from gets me every time.

Arthur had been staying at your house for the past week during his summer break but when your sister called last night asking if you could suddenly watch your niece you couldn’t say no to her and Arthur would never let you say no just because he was there.

So, for the rest of the night, you enjoyed your time with Arthur before your niece was dropped off the next morning.

She spent basically the whole day playing with Arthur because he was a child in an adult body at this point and while your sister just assumed that Arthur was still just a friend you didn’t exactly want to correct her. Correcting her meant correcting everyone who mistook the two of you.

Charles had stopped by to Arthur’s request because Arthur wanted some more clothes but was enjoying the time with you and your niece. Your niece had just gone down for a nap while you were cooking dinner.

Arthur wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your neck as he caressed your hips with his thumbs

“She’s down for a nap. When did you say your sister was coming?” He asked, and you glanced at your phone

“About an hour. Which means she’ll just be waking up from her nap when she gets here” You explained, turning in his arms so you could look up at him.

“What’s for dinner tonight? I thought we were ordering in” He frowned, and you shrugged

“I know that was the plan but we didn’t exactly know when she’d be going home so I thought I might as well use some ingredients up before we start travelling again” You shrugged and he nodded

“But I do have to add you look really, really hot with her” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him further down to you. After a minute or so, Arthur pulled away and left you chasing after his lips.

“Y/N?” He asked, and you hummed

“Is this your baby fever kicking in?” He whispered, and you looked down, hiding the blush that was forming.

“Maybe” you mumbled as he tilted your head up, pressing a kiss to your lips again.

“Think you can wait another year? Maybe in that time we can get engaged? Have a little more practice with your niece? Also, maybe I’ll be a little more settled down with racing” You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him explain his plans

“Or we could wait longer than a year and copy your brother” you suggested

“You want your own Leo as well?” He asked, and you shrugged

“As cute as Leo is I’m not exactly sure if I want a dachshund” Arthur raised his eyebrows

“What do you mean by that?” He asked

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Leo, but you’re away quite a bit, and I can’t always follow you around the world, and big dog privileges seem like a good thing” You shrugged

“So what were you thinking?” He asked, pulling you over to sit on the couch

“I quite like greyhounds, collies, german shepherds” You shrugged, and he nodded.

After talking about different types of dogs, you could possibly get for what felt like five minutes your sister arrived to pick your niece up. Giving her the task of waking the little girl up while you and Ollie stayed cuddled.

You heard her little cries from downstairs as she cried about not wanting to leave. Your sister is attempting to calm her down. As she walked downstairs, you and Arthur both looked over

“Thur I don’t wanna go” She repeatedly cried as your sister put her down, and your niece ran straight into his legs.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry you’ll get to see me before me and Auntie Y/N go on holiday, okay?” He gently rubbed her back as he picked her up, walking back over to your sister. Your sister left with her crying daughter as Arthur pulled you into his arms again.

“Yep let’s get a dog” You laughed while pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Tag List

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@velocesainz

@kat-s2

@scarletwidow3000

@tellybearryyyy

@zabwlky1999

@xxx-betty

@callsignwidow

@chocolatepoetryfun

@lwstuff

@f1ln4dr3cl16mv33

@destinyg237

#f2 x reader #f2 #formula 2 #formula two x reader #formula two #formula two x you #formula two x y/n #f2 x you #f2 x y/n #arthur leclerc x female reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #al12 x y/n #al12 x you #al12 x reader #al12

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keys-hellscape-1020 · 3 months ago

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Heyy I saw ur post asking for asks and I absolutely love ur writing + I’ve had such bad Tim brainrot so I was wondering if you could write smt abt Tim just like gradually moving into the readers home and sort of like coparenting the readers cat

Tysm if you chose to write this 🙏🏽🙏🏽

A/N: Yes I can absolutely write this for you nonny! I hope you don’t mind too much but i changed the cat to a dog because I am HORRIBLY allergic to cats and if I have to suffer my readers also must. In actuality tho I just have spent very little time around them over the years and have no clue how to realistically write owning a cat.

Tim Drake x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Reader is described as wearing makeup, canon typical injuries (Tim gets hurt on patrol), reader is described as taking care of Tim’s injuries, reader has a period, reader gets sick from her period, brief description of throwing up, reader has very painful cramps, reader takes typical cramp relieving medication (ibuprofen)

————

You thanked who ever was up there that Tim and your dog got along the first time you introduced them. You hadn’t planned on doing it today, but Tim had arrived early and you weren’t going to make him wait outside simply because your dog might be territorial.

You stand nervously by Tim’s side as he reaches his hand down for your German Shepherd, Ares, to sniff carefully. He takes a few moments after smelling Tim to eye him warily before letting out a dramatic huff and retreating to his spot on the sofa to stare Tim down.

You give Tim a chaste kiss on the cheek in relief before retreating to your bedroom to finish getting ready, “Make yourself at home Tim, I’ll be ready in just a few minutes!” You call over your shoulder as you close your door.

After you had finished your makeup and threw your wallet and a few other necessities into your bag in a rush you exit your room and just before you can call out to Tim to let him know that you’re now ready you see him seated on the opposite side of the couch from Ares.

Well, maybe saying they got along was a bit of a lie. They weren’t truly getting along so much as Ares wasn’t trying to fight Tim, and was even letting him sit near him. A miracle for your reactive dog.

“Tim?” You call out gently, not wanting to break the moment too harshly. At the sound of your voice Ares gets up and runs to your side like you were returning from war. You lean down to scratch in-between his ears as Tim approaches you much more calmly, a gentle smile on his face.

“You look amazing babe.” He mummers softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently, Ares whining in contempt at your attention being stolen.

“You ready to go?” You prompt gently, at Tim’s nod you take his hand and lead him toward the door, Ares right on your heels, whining like you were committing a most horrible crime.

As you exit your apartment and nudge Ares’ snout inside from where he was trying to follow you, you’re taken aback when suddenly Tim reaches forward and gently pats Ares on the top of the head, mumbling a soft “I’ll bring her back soon buddy.”

To your shock Ares doesn’t seem to mind the gesture, and as you finally get your front door closed and move to leave your apartment building your mind keeps drifting back to the sweet interaction with one thought repeatedly popping up in your mind, “Is it to early to be thinking about marriage?”

————

You love Tim, it’s something that you had realized early on in your relationship, but you swear he’s going to send you to an early grave with the amount of stress he puts you through. Almost every night for the last two weeks he’d shown up on your fire escape battered and bruised beyond recognition. The first time he’d done it you had to put Ares in his crate and throw a blanket over it, scared he was going to try and attack Tim with how he was growling and putting his haunches up.

By tonight however he’s grown used to the nightly intrusions, as he contents himself with watching you patch Tim up from his spot on the couch. You’re standing between Tim’s spread legs as he sits on the couch in front of you, running your hands up and down his bare arms carefully, checking for any other injuries he might’ve not told you about but mainly reassuring yourself that he’s here, and he’s okay. This is the worst shape he’s ever come to you in and you have to be sure that you haven’t missed anything.

Seemingly reading your mind he softly mutters, “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands find your hips as you stand between his spread legs. You vaguely realize that he’s gazing up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. “I promise.” He whispers, leaning forward to bury his face in your stomach.

You run your fingers through his hair, trying your best to detangle it from his night of crime fighting. “You know I’ll always be here for you.” You begin, “But you have got to take better care of yourself.” You can’t help but gaze at the canvas of his ribs, pale skin mottled with shades of blue and black. His arms are covered in cuts, a number of which you had to stitch up. You hated how steady your hands were getting with that damned needle.

He lets out an ambiguous groan and tightens his hold on your hips, when he speaks you can barely hear him from where his mouth is pressed against your shirt. “‘M sorry.” He mummers.

You let out a sigh and tip your head back to stare at your ceiling as you tangle your hands in his hair. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You sigh softly. “Just careful.”

After a moment you gently pull him to stand and begin guiding him to your bedroom with a hand on his back, which he lets you do wordlessly. You move to your bed and begin gently pushing him to sit.

He lets you push him, offering no resistance as he turns himself to lean against your pillows, poorly concealing a wince as his stitches pull and scrape against the bed. You watch him with a concerned furrow in your brow. “One second.” You mummer, side-stepping Ares, who had silently followed you into your bedroom.

You move to your dresser and pull out a change of clothes for him. He had started to keep clothes at your apartment after several instances of him spending the night as Red Robin and not having any civvies on hand for the next morning.

Tim lets out a grunt of displeasure when he sees you have one of his t-shorts and a pair of shorts in hand. “What? You don’t like me in just my boxers?” He says with a smirk of his face that has no right being that attractive when you can’t do anything about it.

You let out a groan and throw them on top of your dresser reluctantly as you go to sit next to his reclined body. “I just don’t want you to get cold.” You mummer, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek.

“I’m not that fragile.” He says with a soft laugh, leaning into your touch eagerly.

You lay down next to him and drape your arm across his chest, being careful to avoid his injuries as he gingerly wraps one of his arms around your shoulders. “You’re not doing any work tomorrow night or the next.” You say bluntly as you gaze at his injuries, a firm look on his face.

Tim sighs and gets a vaguely guilty look on his face. “Babe I would if I could but Bruce-“

You sit up just enough to give him a firm glare, one that he knows better than to argue with. “If Bruce gives you shit for not going out and risking your life while seriously injured I’m kicking his fucking ass.” You practically growl, leaning forward slightly to get your point across.

Tim rolls his eyes and lets out a grating sigh as you lay back down against him. “I’d pay money to see you fight Bruce.” He mumbles tiredly.

“If he tries to make you go out tomorrow you’re getting your wish.” You say. The moment is cut-off however when Ares jumps up on your bed and curls over your feet, and much to your shock, Tim’s as well. When you turn to give him a surprised smile he is already dead asleep.

————

You can’t believe yourself, honestly you can’t. How the hell did you manage to get sick right before Tim was supposed to get back from his mission? You let out a soft whine as you finish puking your guts up and double check that the toilet flushes properly. You lean back slightly and attempt to orient yourself. You get your period every week and yet still you haven’t managed to master the art of not letting it beat your ass.

You look over at Ares’ soft whine, he’s seated himself at the bathroom door and is watching you carefully to make sure you’re okay. He only abandons his post at the sound of the window opening, loud barks and whines making his excitement clear to anyone who knows him. You curse yourself quietly as you force yourself to stand and grab your toothbrush from its spot next to Tim’s, quickly plopping a generous amount of toothpaste on it and shoving it in your mouth. You hope Ares distracts Tim long enough for you to attempt to hide the evidence of your monthly illness.

You quicken your movement at the sound of Tim calling your name. Spitting out your toothpaste and quickly rinsing out your mouth at the sound of him approaching. As he peers around the doorframe to gaze at you lift your arms and smother him in a hug which he eagerly returns. “I missed your pretty boy.” You say blearily as you run your hands over his shoulders and down his back, checking him over for injuries.

He lets out a soft, tired laugh against your neck at the nickname, his muscles slowly but surely relaxing at the feeling of you finally with him again. You squeeze him around his middle gently, being mindful of any potential injuries as Ares lets out a whine at being ignored and swats Tim’s armor covered leg with his paw. Tim huffs out a laugh and pulls back from you, crouching down to Ares’ height and letting him lick his face where his domino mask was a moment prior.

You watch the scene affectionately when suddenly you feel a drop in your stomach, you rub your hand over your uterus to try and ignore the feeling but a moment later you’re gripping the sink in pain and letting out a low groan. Tim stands up quickly, his hands finding your shoulders and straightening you up just enough for him to look you over.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He asks you quickly. You move the hand you were gripping the sink with to wave him off dismissively only to be shown that was a stupid idea when your cramps double in intensity and you nearly fall to the ground in pain, only held up by Tim desperately grabbing you by the armpits and lifting you into a bridal hold.

He moves you so quickly you barely have time to register what’s happening before he is lowering you down on your bed, running a hand over your forehead soothingly to clear any hairs that were sticking due to sweat. “Have you taken any medicine for it yet?” He asks in a soothing mummer.

When you give him a confused glance through the pain he offers you an explanation despite the slight pink now tinting his cheeks. “You were due for your period, and you were brushing your teeth when I arrived which indicates you threw up which is typical for you on the first day of your period. Plus you sent Ares to come greet me instead of doing so yourself.” At the sound of his name Ares invites himself onto your bed, lying over your legs and resting his head over your uterus defensively. You and Tim both instinctively move to scratch in-between his ears.

“So uh-“ Tim clears his throat. “Should I go get you some ibuprofen?” He asks meekly.

You grab his hand a place a reassuring kiss to the back of it. “Would you please baby?” You soothe.

Tim gives you a firm nod and moves to do so, Ares lets out a soft whine when Tim leaves the room but doesn’t move from his spot on you. Tim returns a moment later, a bottle of ibuprofen in one hand and a glass of water in his other. He sets both on your nightstand before carefully counting out your desired amount of ibuprofen, handing it to you, and carefully tipping a mouthful of water into your mouth once you go to swallow them.

“Thank you.” You say as you attempt to relax against your bed. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” Tim quips, smirking at you as you roll your eyes playfully, he leans forward to press a kiss to the center of your forehead. He lingers a moment before pulling back to look at you, at the lack of eye-contact he hesitates a moment before asking, “What’s wrong baby? Are you in pain?”

You shift uncomfortably for a moment, causing Ares to grumble, before muttering out, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”

Tim balks at your words and grabs both of your hands securely, shuffling closer from where he was sitting by your reclined form to press your forms together gingerly. “Don’t say that baby,” he soothes “I’ll always take care of you.”

You shake your head softly, trying to suppress the tears you feel coming to your eyes. ��Wanted to take care of you.” You mutter, avoiding his concerned look, “I was so excited for you to get back.”

Tim holds your face and gently wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “You always take care of me baby, it’s the least I can do to take care of you once in a while.” He all but whispers, pressing your foreheads together.

Suddenly Ares is also attempting to press his face against yours, nosing his way in front of Tim’s and licking your face eagerly, causing you to giggle and Tim to let out an offended sound at his spot being stolen.

“See?” Tim says after a moment of Ares’ enthused licking. “Even Ares wants to take care of you.”

You shake your head with a soft sigh as Ares finally calms down, moving to protect your feet and let Tim take over soothing you once more. “My boys.” You mutter gently, giving Tim an affectionate look.

“All yours.” Tim confirms, moving forward to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Always.”

#key writing #Sorry nonny I don’t really know if did your request justice #I was just having fun past a certain point mb 😭#tim x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #tim drake wayne #tim drake x you #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin #I honestly don’t really like this but whatever

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a-b-riddle · 6 months ago

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What do you think the 141 boys would do with a reader who loves animals. Im not saying in the "aww theyre so cute" way, im saying that they see a homeless (and homeless could mean wondering the streets even if they have a collar on) and she just wants to take it home. Have you seen that guy on tick tock who trained the seagull? She'd do that but with every bird that flys by her window. Mice? She says your welcome as long as she protects her food a little extra careful. She refuses to hurt them or "scare" them in any way so using traps to catch "vermin" is a no go and she will cry just thinking about it!

Sorry, thank you for reading I love your writings x

Johnny jokes about you being a princess to his family when you first met them. It’s not until a sweet singing bird comes to sit on your shoulder did they realize he was serious. When you found out his Da had been using inhumane traps in his barn, Johnny couldn’t resist those tears. So he set it up where they were just repelled instead of killed. His Da pitched a fit, but Johnny promised to cover the cost.

Kyle is 100% on board with going vegan with you when you said you wanted to try it. The two of you spent countless hours in the kitchen, but what never really worked were cheese alternatives… so you settled on vegetarian, which worked out great. Both of you loved Indian food and not every dish needed meat… but then… no more sushi. You were disappointed in yourself for being able to only settle for pescatarian, but Kyle reminded you of that pescatarian is still good. He is just proud that you’re trying.

Price realizes that this is his chance to pull you out of the city and into the country. Get you a house with enough land to get you all the critters your heart desires. Come home with a highland cow courtesy of a Mr. MacTavish? He doesn’t care. He has the money to spend on you. If not handbags and jewelry then eventually something.

Simon doesn’t do pets. He refuses your attempts at wanting to get an animal, especially when the two of you had been trying to conceive. When you fall pregnant, it’s definitely a hard no. But your hormones make you cry at the drop of a hat. Seeing stray animals is bad, but roadkill is worse. Simon covers your eyes anytime you’re about to pass a dead animal on the side of the road. When you had come across a large dog one time, Simon had turned the car around after you wouldn’t stop crying to put it in the boot of the car and take it back home to give it a proper burial. He didn’t judge you about petting the deceased dog. Crying over an animal that wasn’t even worse. The next day he comes home with a floppy-eared german shepherd puppy. “Figured the two of them could grow together.” He shrugs, placing the puppy in front of you before kissing the top of your head.

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 8 months ago

Text

Princess and the fool

John Egan X Pilot! Reader

Summary: Y/n and Bucky's time in the camp...

Warning: Swearing/ historical inaccuracies/ sexism/ mention of rape (but not the actual thing)/ mention of getting shot/

Word count: 2.07k

The siren went off 5 minutes ago, they were all talking about where the Americans were attacking. ‘’Berlin? It sounds like Berlin’’ Y/n suggested. The guys agreed as the sound of explosion was the only thing they were hearing. ‘’Ah, good fucking Monday Adolf’’ Bucky chuckled. ‘’You think the 100th is with them?’’ Crank asked. ‘’They gotta be’’ Bucky replied. ‘’First daylight raid on Germany’s most precious town, it must me a rough one’’ Buck said. As the guys and Y/n were chuckling, screams echoed, before they knew it, the sounds of 3-gun shots came to the men’s ears. ‘’That’s a lot closer’’ Crank stated. The sound of someone shouting for help made Y/n flinch. ‘’The hell was that?’’ Bucky asked as he got up from his chair.

Buck, Bucky and Y/n ran outside with other POW, 3 guys came from behind the bungalow, holding a very injured Harry. ‘’Shit, Harry’s shot! What the hell happened?’’ Buck exclaimed. Y/n helped the guys holding Harry and quickly looked at his injury. ‘’They shot him for no reason!’’ one of them exclaimed. German soldiers walked up to see what the commotion was about, they came from behind the building, which meant that they shot him.

Bucky walked up to one of the Kraut soldiers and tried to keep his cool. ‘’Why would you shoot him?’’ he raised his voice. The commotion got the attention of the other POW as they got out of their barracks. ‘’He was out of the blocks’’ one of the Germans justified. ‘’We need a doctor, get Glemnitz!’’ Buck ordered. It was pure chaos as the men were trying to help Harry, German soldiers were yelling at everyone to get back inside, and guard dogs were barking. It went so fast, next thing Y/n knew, one of the guards let loose a dog. ‘’Woah, woah! Get that dog!’’ Bucky yelled.

The dog ran past her and chose its pray, the guy right next to her, she didn’t know him. Bucky pulled her by the shoulder to protect her from the German Shepherd. Y/n had his blood on her leg. ‘’Get that dog off him!’’ one of the guys yelled. She was in shock; it could’ve been her. The dog could’ve chosen her. ‘’Everyone gets back inside, now!’’ the German officer ordered. Egan led Y/n back inside, he became protective of her when they found out what the Germans did to female P.O.W. ‘’They’re going to kill us one at the fucking time, Buck’’ he breathed out as they made their way back inside.

Y/n sat down on a chair, watching the blood on her foot. ‘’Hey, you okay?’’ Buck asked the woman. She slowly looked at them. ‘’It could’ve been me’’ she said, her voice not getting louder than a whisper. ‘’You’re okay, don’t let them break you’’ Crank said. Something shifted in her brain, she was getting out of here alive, whatever it took she was getting out of this god forsaken place. ‘’Fuck those fucking Germans’’ she mumbled. Bucky chuckled lightly as he heard her swearing.

‘’Mail call!’’ the guys were waiting for this. Y/n had no one to write to her, since her W.A.S.P status wasn’t recognized by the military, her mother didn’t even know that she was in the army. The letters were passed, none for Bucky and Y/n, they looked at each other as the guys opened their envelope. ‘’Who’s yours from, Buck?’’ Gale was smelling his letter; it was clearly Marge. ‘’Marge’’ he said, smiling. ‘’Marge’’ Bucky mimicked, making Y/n laugh. She got up from her seat and went beside Bucky. ‘’My dear Buck, I love you, and miss you.’’ She finished her imitation with kissing sound, making the soldiers laugh. She even earned a smile from Buck. Bucky got up and followed her into her joke. ‘’My dear Marge, I love you, Bucky is annoying me, but he’s my best friend, I miss you, bla bla bla, I love you’’ he did the same as Y/n, making kissing sound. Everyone was giggling and looking at the pair acted out the letters. ‘’Alright you too’’ Buck chuckled. Bucky and Y/n looked at each other, laughing before they got back to their seat.

They didn’t know what time it was, but the 3 of them couldn’t sleep. ‘’In my last letter, I popped the question, and she said yes’’ Buck smiled. Y/n smiled back to him; she laid on top of Bucky’s back, since she lost a lot of weight from eating only potatoes, she wasn’t heavy. ‘’That’s good, I’m happy for you, Buck’’ Y/n whispered. ‘’I was thinking that you could be my best-man’’ he said, looking at Bucky. ‘’I will be your best-man, Buck’’ he replied. ‘’Of course, you’ll get an invitation, Y/n’’ Buck smiled. ‘’I will gladly attend your wedding. And I have to meet her, she seems lovely.’’

March, raids were more often, and the prisoners were growing tired of this place. Y/n had just fallen asleep before commotion outside woke everyone up. German soldiers were running outside, near the fence. ‘’What the fuck is going on?’’ she yawned. Bucky was looking outside the window to try and get an answer. ‘’I don’t know, but they’re rushing like crazy.’’

‘’3 tunnels, how the fuck did they do that?’’ Bucky exclaimed as Colonel Clark explained what happened in the night. Brits tried to escape via tunnels that they dug, they didn’t know how much got out, but the Germans didn’t look happy. ‘’They’ve been digging for over a year’’ Clark explains. Y/n looked at Buck, then Bucky, they’ve been talking about an escape plan for a while now. When Clark left the room, they all looked at each other. ‘’When the weather gets better, we’re getting out of here.’’ Bucky stated. ‘’Yeah, in a coffin’’ Y/n scoffed. ‘’The odds are against us; you might want to find a plan that would actually work.’’ Buck explained. ‘’When I do, you’re both coming with me’’ Bucky promised.

By summertime, she was slowly starting to lose her mind, this place was sucking her soul and her spirit. On a happy note, the prisoner got new uniforms, suited for summer. Hers was a grey tank top with forest green pants that were too big for her, she used a shoelace as a belt, the Germans were kind enough to give her a bra, she didn’t know where they get it, and to be honest, she didn’t want to know. She got a leather jacket, for the colder nights, and if she was too cold, the boys were nice enough to let her borrow a shirt with long sleeve. Buck wanted to take a stomp out of the ground to use its wood for fire, Y/n didn’t want to do that all day, so she used her body as a motivation for the soldiers, when the were pulling the stomp, she was sitting on the group, topless, only in her black bra. She wanted to tan, but if she could help to motivate the troops, she was happy to help. Plus, the guys had other thing to worry about than try to rape her. Bucky was the one they were more worried about, he was really going crazy, talking to himself, playing baseball with himself, laughing alone and other things, he was going crazy.

‘’Hey! Any of you want to play some ball?’’ he asked Murph, but he was busy pushing the stomp. ‘’C’mon, I can even let you win!’’ Bucky pleaded. Y/n looked at Bucky, putting her shirt back on as she got up. ‘’Either pitch in or knock it off’’ Murph said, sightly pushing Bucky on the soldier. ‘’Why don’t you shut the hell up?’’ Bucky pushed Murph back. ‘’What the hell is wrong with you?’’ Buck asked as he pushed Bucky on the ground. ‘’You’re going to help or stay out of the way’’ Buck says as Y/n watched Bucky put his hands behind his head, making himself comfortable on the ground. Bucky had a teasing flame burning in his eyes. ‘’You’re the new king of the camp, and I’m just in the way?’’ he teased, putting one of his legs over the other. Y/n got closer to Bucky, who kept taunting Buck about the fact that he just wanted to work. ‘’Bucky, c’mon get up’’ she tried to reason with him, no success. ‘’I’m sorry, come on, get up, you fool'' Buck said, offering his hand. ‘’King Stump, stumpity, stump, get to work’’ Bucky taunted, kicking Buck’s hand with his foot. Then, the guys started to fight on the ground, until Buck punched Bucky in the face. It was like the punch he got helped him to get out of his craziness at the moment. ‘’HEY that’s enough!’’ Colonel Clark yelled. Y/n helped Buck get up. ‘’You’re going to fight me too?’’ she asked Bucky as she offered her hand. He took it, without saying anything and got up.

German officer started to run around, a message in German got broadcasted on the camp’s speaker. Buck looked around. ‘’They landed, didn’t they’’ he stated. Bucky scoffed and looked at his friend. ‘’Y’a think’’ he said, sarcastically. ‘’Quit being a smartass, Bucky. We’re all tired here, yet you don’t hear us yapping about it’’ she said, while exhaling. ‘’Sorry princess’’ he said. She was too tired to argue with him, so she rolled her eyes and got back in her barracks.

Fresh meat was coming in, that’s how Y/n liked to call the new P.O.W coming in the camp, but this time, people were talking more, Red Tails pilot were walking in the camp. Y/n had a lot of respect for them, she got the chance to fly with them once, she could safely say that they were one the best pilots she ever flew with. ‘’They look nice’’ she said, looking at them.

They were all very into their game of card when the door opened. It was 2 Red Tails pilot. ‘’Second Lieutenant Alexender Jefferson, 332nd Fighter Group’’ one of the two introduced himself. ‘’Second Lieutenant Richard D. Macon, 332nd.’’ The other said. Y/n smiled to them; other boys didn’t say anything. ‘’Gentleman, welcome to paradise!’’ she said, sarcastically. There was a little bit of tension in the room, but Y/n looked at Richard, he injured his neck and couldn’t climb up a bunk. ‘’Here, take mine’’ she offered the man, who thanked her with a small nod. The next day, Buck, Bucky and she were seated in the stairs in front of their barracks. ‘’You trust ‘em?’’ Buck asked. ‘’Yeah, I do’’ Y/n said. ‘’Think we should too’’ Bucky added as Y/n nodded. That same night, she watched as Alexender was drawing the girl of his dream, Richard was teasing him. Like every other night, she couldn’t sleep. ‘’Girl of my dream’’ Alexender said, showing his drawing to his friend. She seated on her bed. ‘’Can I see her?’’ she asked him, the two men were surprised that she was talking to them. ‘’What?’’ Alexender asked, a little bit confused. She jumped down from her bunk and seated at the chair in the middle of the room. ‘’Can I see the girl of your dreams?’’ she asked again. He turned his book and showed the woman his drawing. ‘’She’s beautiful, you’re an artist?’’ she asked. He shook his head. ‘’What’s your name?’’ Richard asked her. ‘’Major Y/n Y/l/n, W.A.S.P division. But you can call me Y/n.’’ she smiled to the two men in front of her. ‘’Why are you nice to us, Y/n?’’ Richard whispered. ‘’Because you guys saved my life once, and I think that the Red Tails are the best pilots in the hole U.S army.’’ She looked at Richard in the eyes.

Buck was seated at the table, listening to the radio when some German officer yelled. ‘’Quick hide it’’ Murph said. He hid the radio just in time as the officer entered the room. Y/n looked at the officer before looking at Buck. ‘’Evening, sir’’ she said, getting his attention. ‘’Lights out!’’ he said, turning off the lights as he left the room. ‘’They’re close’’ Buck said. Y/n opened a candle, so that people could see a little bit. ‘’Really close’’ Y/n finished his sentence. ‘’We’re going home’’ Bucky smiled.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #master of the air imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan #gale cleven #alexander jefferson #richard macon

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deansapplepie · 1 year ago

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Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 2

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Anything that Reminds you of Me

Summary: In this chapter Y/N Grimes gets back something that she lost, discover some secrets and conflicts Shane.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, mentions of death, violence, Shane is an ass, Merle being Merle.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s sister)

Word Count: 3716

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love.

After that day you grew closer to Daryl, it was easy to be with him, you could stay a long moment silently and it would not feel awkward. Also, it was cute to watch his interactions with Luna. He started to interact more with her and sometimes even took her for a walk. But now, you needed to also deal with a super protective Shane that out of nowhere thought you were a little girl.

“Be careful. He’s not the right man for you.” You rolled your eyes at him, he always said the same damn thing and you were getting tired of it.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don’t want the right one? Maybe I just want the wrong one?” You were tired, you would always tell he was just your friend, that you knew how to defend yourself, but he always came with the same judgmental words about Daryl and about you.

“Y/N…” That was it, you had enough.

“Shane, I’m no damsel in distress, and… you’re not Rick, okay?” You chose your words carefully almost saying ‘you’re not my brother’, but you considered him your brother, right? You tried change your words to not hurt him, but what you said… he understood what you said, he was not Rick which means he’s not your big bro to boss you.

“Fine.” He answered teeth greeted.

“Fine.” You throw back at him, leaving your side of camp followed by Luna.

A group was getting ready to do a run to get more food and any other thing that could be useful. You weren’t going this time, so you approached Glenn to give him a list of things you needed. He was the one with more experience on the runs, so he was the best person to have the list.

“Just that?” He asked looking at your very small list.

“Yeah, I don’t need much.” You scratched Luna’s ears while she got a lick from Glenn’s hand.

“Nothing special? A candy? Maybe some cookies?” He suggested, you never asked those kind of things to him, but he would always bring something to you. He was like that cute baby brother that everyone wanted to have.

“If you see anything that reminds you of me, you can bring it.” You simply answered, everything was almost ready for them to go. So you decided not to get on their way. “Be careful, ok?”

You left them finishing getting things done and went to the other side of the camp where a certain archer was also preparing his things to go hunting.

“Good morning” you said as you got close to him, Luna already attacking him with her tongue and paws.

“Morning”, he answered while petting the happy dog. “Luna, stop” he tried commanding the german shepherd when she wouldn’t let him finish what he was doing. “Stop” he said again.

Then she stopped looking at him, puppy eyes, tongue out and the tail going side to side. “Good girl” he scratched her ears. You smiled looking at both of them, they were too much cute to not smile at.

“Can I go hunting with you?” You finally talked.

“It’s better not, I’m planning on bringing something big this time and ya make much noise walking, no offense” he was not wrong, but you could use leaving the quarry for a while.

“Alright, do you want Luna to go with you?” You asked, you’d prefer Luna stayed with you, but you knew he also needed some company.

“Nah, I’m ok. She sometimes doesn’t obey me, I don’t wanna risk anything happening to her.” You sat on a beach chair that was close where he was preparing to head out, Luna on your feet.

“When you come back, you’ll teach me how to shoot the crossbow, right?” You had asked him the other day and he said he could help you, but then you never had the opportunity.

“Yeah, I’ll…” he stopped mid sentence watching Merle approach, he was going on the run, so why was him coming back?

“Want anything special lil bro?” He asked, then looked between you and Daryl with a smirk on his face. “Maybe, some condoms?” He knew he would get Daryl pissed, most of the time he would say this things just so he could see Daryl’s reaction.

“Shut the fuck up Merle!” His face burned and he was trying to hide his blushed cheeks. Your cheeks were also blushing and you had nowhere to hide.

“Don’t you have to go on that run Dixon?” He laughed and tried to pet Luna, but she barked to him making him jump.

“It’s okay love birds, I’ll leave you alone.” He said returning to the group that was almost going.

“Don’t mind him.” Daryl tried to apologize, he felt like he was always apologizing or making excuses for his brother.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Merle being himself, there’s not much you can do.” You stayed there with him until he was ready to leave to the woods, you wished him good luck and told him to take care. He gave you a little grunt that you interpreted as ‘thank you, take care too’.

The rest of the day was uneventful. You helped around camp, took care of the kids and also rested a little. It was getting late but nobody had came back from the run yet. You were starting to become worried.

“Any sign of them?” You asked Dale who was at his usual spot near the RV.

“No, not yet.” He answered and looked with his binoculars again.

“What if something bad happened?” Amy asked worried, Andrea, her sister, had gone with them and she was not used to go on these runs.

“I’m sure they are fine, maybe they run into some trouble, but they have T.Dog and Merle, they are strong. They’ll be fine.” You tried tranquilizing the younger woman.

Not longer after this conversation you heard a big noise, just like a car alarm. Down the road a red sports car came in a high speed and the noise of the alarm became higher and higher. Soon the car stopped in the entrance of the quarry and it was Glenn inside. Shane ran to stop the noise of the alarm and soon after a truck stopped behind the beautiful car. ‘They freaking stole a truck’, you thought admired. ‘What could possibly have happened?’

You saw T.Dog, Morales and Andrea coming from the truck. Amy was helping Andrea to walk, something had gone really wrong. Where was Merle? Suddenly you heard a commotion, you thought you heard Carl yelling the word ‘dad’ and it couldn’t be it. What were the chances? Luna ran from your side in the direction of the group and you had to follow her. “Luna, stop! You can’t go running like that!” You yelled at the dog, only stopping when she jumped on Lori, Carl and… Rick.

“Rick?” You didn’t even know if anyone could listen to you, you felt as if you were in one of those dreams where you want to talk, scream and you just can’t, but that wasn’t a dream. Rick was there in his uniform, hugging his family, tears in his eyes and he heard you, if it was another sad dream he’d have ignored you like in every other that you had. But he got up from where he was hugging Lori and Carl, and he walked in your direction, you ran the short distance between you, and threw your arms around him.

“It’s really you” tears were already coming from your eyes.

“It’s me, I’m here now.” He was alive and his heart was beating, he kissed the top of your head and you hugged him tightly.

“I thought you were dead, I- I should have gone and saw it for myself. I’m sorry, you were left alone… I’m so sorry.” Many feelings came to your mind at this moment, Shane told you he was dead, but he wasn’t. You were happy about having your brother back, but now you were infinitely angry at Shane.

“It’s ok, you couldn’t know. None of us are going to separate again, I promise.” After you departed from his embrace, you looked at Shane and for second he was scared. He knew you were mad, and he knew he had screwed everything. Your look meant many things and he was scared of what he could lose if you ever opened your mouth.

You were informed that they let Merle cuffed to a rooftop.

“Damn, I know he’s an asshole, but it’s not going to go well when Daryl get to hear about it. I’m not telling him, you guys tell, I’ll just be around in case he gets out of control.” You said. Fuck. You knew they probably had a good reason for that, but Daryl was his brother and he would get very upset about it. Actually, upset doesn’t really represent how he would be. And you couldn’t blame him, you were a young sibling too and if it was Rick… you’d be angry too. In fact, at this moment you were still mad about Rick being left in the hospital to die.

“What will you do? Are you gonna kiss the calm into him?” Shane mocked you up, good everything you needed.

“Fuck you Shane!” You showed him your middle finger and left, if it was any other time, it would become a playful moment between both of you. But right now, you couldn’t. There was too much on your mind.

You closed into yourself for a while, trying to calm yourself down and organize your thoughts, but it was almost impossible. You wanted to thank Glenn, for bringing your brother back to you, but with everything that happened you didn’t get the chance to thank him. When you told him to bring something that reminded of you, you were not expecting him to bring your brother that you thought was dead. You were so glad at Glenn for it, he could have ignored Rick and let him to die, but he helped him.

“We’re organizing to go get him by the morning” Rick sat by your side, concern in his eyes. “I know we shouldn’t have left him there, but things got out of control and T.Dog lost the key.” You know he was being honest, and you were happy they were going back to rescue him.

“Daryl is probably coming back tomorrow morning, maybe he’s able to go with you. I think he’d like to.” You felt Rick tense, you knew your brother, it was just like you could feel his energy. Shane already opened his mouth.

“This Daryl Dixon, what’s going on between you two?” There was the question you were waiting he would drop.

“Nothing, he’s my friend. I have no idea what Shane told you, but he’s an ass. He judges people without knowing them. Daryl is a good person and he was with me when I needed the most.” You gave him a brief explanation, omitting the part that you were crying over his cheating friend and wife, and telling it was because you missed him. Not completely a lie. “Trust me, he’ll probably hate you tomorrow, but you’ll get to know him and you’ll see who he really is.”

Rick tried to trust you, he knew you well and he also knew Shane’s temper, but he could not stop protecting you now that he was back.

The other day early in the morning Rick, Glenn and T.Dog already had a plan and were packing everything to rescue Merle and pick the guns Rick had lost. Everything was going just fine, till Daryl made his big entrance cursing a walker that ate the deer he was tracking.

‘Just good, he’s already moody. That helps a lot’, you thought. As soon as the news were told, Daryl jumped in Rick’s direction and you had to come between then.

“Hey! Hey! Daryl! Listen to me! Calm down.” You were in front of him, your back turned to Rick, hands up.

“Easy for ya to tell, yer brother is back from the dead while mine is handcuffed to a damn roof.” He looked at you and you could see anger, fear and despair in his eyes.

“I know. I have mine back and you need to rescue yours. They are going back to rescue him. Rick is really sorry, trust me.” You put your hands on his chest praying he would not flinch at your touch or take your hands away, but he didn’t move. “Now we can stay here, fighting each other while Merle is alone in that rooftop, or you can all work together and rescue him. I know right at this moment you wished Rick was dead, but I’d never wish it for Merle. Our brothers can do stupid things, but they don’t deserve to die.”

A long silence came and Daryl contemplated the possibilities, he trusted you, but he wanted to punch Rick’s face as much as he wanted to punch Shane for going around talking shit about his brother. He looked at you one last time and said “Fine. I’m going.”

After they went on the rescue mission the camp started to go back to normal. But it was not over to you, and you had something you needed to do. You walked large steps on Shane’s direction.

“Hey Shane!” You called, in the moment he turned to you, you were already close enough and in seconds your closed hand were making contact with his face.

“What the hell was that for? Because of your boyfriend?” He asked his hand touching the left side of his face.

“That was because of my brother, and you know why. All the reasons going on your mind right now, it’s because of them.” You know he understood, his angry face became a worried one in seconds.

“Y/N… I didn’t know. I swear, he was not breathing, his… his heart had stopped.” He tried to explain. Some people looked at you and other pretended to be minding their own businesses but you couldn’t care less.

“Well, then explain me this. Because I see two options, first you lied, or second we need to take Rick to the authorities immediately, because he’s the cure to all this shit.” You decided to go to the side of the camp where your tents were, you have had enough. The show was over.

“Aunt Y/N, why did you punch Shane?” Damn the kid saw it, Lori wasn’t going to like it.

“Shane said I needed to practice, so he asked me to practice on his face. Very dumb decision I’d say.” You gave the first excuse you could think to Carl, but then Lori came.

“You punched Shane?” She asked in low voice, everybody saw there was no secret about it.

“Yes, he deserved. You know he deserved, I was holding up since yesterday when Rick showed up.” You answered actually there was way more time that you wanted to this, but no way you were going to say Lori what you saw one and a half weeks ago.

She had nothing to say, she also was angry at Shane for making her think Rick was dead. Lori was angry at herself too, for getting involved with Shane, but now it was too late. After that you took some clothes and went to the lake to wash them with the other women, you also decided going at Daryl’s tent and took the clothes of him that you could find. After what happened that was the least you could do to him. You took Luna with you so she could play a little and experience the freedom. Most of the day was alright, the exception was the scene Ed cause ending with Shane punching the shit out of him, you hope he understood the message to not touch Carol again. Also, Jimmy had an insolation and were kind of having hallucinations forcing you to tie him to a tree.

Later that day, you were starting to get anxious about them not returning to the camp. You had just gotten your brother back and even though you knew he did the good thing going back to Atlanta, you were worried you’d lose him again. All of you were around the bonfire eating the delicious fish that Amy and Andrea had fished, you were not a fan of fish, but this was the apocalypse so you would eat whatever you needed to survive. Soon after Amy told she was going to use the bathroom and got up, you heard to her scream and from that moment everything went wrong on that night.

Zombies were attacking the camp, one had bitten Amy, but you didn’t had time to feel sorry for the younger girl that was so dear with everyone from the camp. Everyone got up and ran trying to pick something to defend against the dead. You always carried your gun and knife, so you took your knife and got ready to defend yourself and your family.

“Carl, Lori, Y/N, stay behind me, I’ll protect you.” Shane said, you just ignored him and started stabbing the dead on the head with your knife.

If you could fight, you would not stay behind any man hiding yourself. Rick and Shane didn’t teach you how to knock out a rapist so now you could hide away from the zombies, they were even easier to deal with than alive people. You started counting how many you killed, using it to concentrate and not let your mind wander, soon you had lost count of how many. While you killed your last one, another came on your direction falling on you making you go to the ground, the dead on top of you, you lost your knife, you put one arm between you and the neck of the zombie, trying to reach out for your gun, but before you could take it the dead fell to the side an arrow on his skull.

‘Thank God, they are back.’ You thought and when you looked Daryl was already in front of you offering his hand to pull yourself up.

“Thank you” you said trying to catch your breath from the tiring wrestle you had with the dead one.

“ ‘s nothing” He replied and then shoot another one from the spot you were. You looked around finding your knife on the ground not very far from where you were fighting for you life, but not so close that you could grab it at the time. You took your knife, but the camp was already under control.

The dead that were not lifeless on the ground were being killed by the others, so you allowed yourself to relax a little. You spotted Rick not very far with Lori and Carl, your eyes roamed through the quarry and you also saw T.Dog and Glenn, but where was Merle?

“Merle?” You threw the question at Daryl, but you couldn’t deny… you were afraid of his reaction and of his answer. He made a face and shook his head, you thought about the worst.

“Oh my god, Daryl… I’m sorry.” You said, but was almost cut off by him.

“He’s alive, the dumbass cut his own hand and scaped, we were hoping he was back to camp and worrying about what he’d do once he arrived here. He stoled our car.” Well, this was totally Merle, you were glad he was alive, but you couldn’t even imagine what would happen if he had came back to the camp.

“That’s what took you all so long to come back?” You wanted to say you were worried, not only about Rick, or Glenn that was your good friend or T.Dog, mostly about him, but you didn’t know how the words would sound to him, so you stopped yourself before you could say anything.

“That too, but we had other problems.” You were going to ask more about it, but just when you were going to open your mouth Rick came to you.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Rick asked holding your shoulders and scanning you over to see if you were hurt anywhere.

“I’m alright, despite what some people think I’m not useless and fragile.”

“That’s not what I meant, I was just worried” Rick took a deep breath and looked in your eyes. “I just got all of you back, I can’t lose you again.”

“I can’t lose you too, so stop doing stupid things.” You said and tugged his hat brim to cover his eyes playfully. When you looked to the side, you saw the archer in the distance, already close to his tent.

The night was turning into day and one new morning was starting, the camp was a mess. You had people to burry and walkers to burn. And to think that hallucinating Jimmy dug two graves the other day. You were so caught up in all the confusion that you forgot about Luna, and you didn’t see her anywhere. You started to call her name, until she came running to you from inside Dale’s RV. You were so relieved she was good and alive. You squatted and hugged her while she tried to lick your face. All the people you cared for were good and alive, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, but you didn’t know what you would do now, the quarry didn’t seem to be safe anymore. The question was, where could you possibly go?

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

#the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #daryl #daryl x grimes!reader #rick grimes

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lethalchiralium · 2 years ago

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No More | [3] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i think i have a storyline. i’m winging the SHIT out of this y’all it’s not even funny. (…maybe a top gun-ish au but we’ll see) I LITERALLY CANNOT FIGURE OUT HOW TO KEEP THIS GOING BUT I KEEP FINESSING??? WHAT IS HAPPENING. this sucks too but whatever. i love it. messy is messy and i love it

warnings: angst, cussing, MEDICAL ATTENTION/INACCURACIES, cerby being both useless and useful but we love him, MENTIONS/ALLUSIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE (NOT ABOUT ANYONE FROM 141), cussing, violence, trauma, Top Gun ;)

summary: It takes time heal a wound that big. Alejandro and Soap are big oafs, you have unwanted conversations in person and in text, one with Keegan and one with your elusive best friend back home.

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Against Simon’s best protests, you found yourself sitting at your desk on base, already gone over files you meant to before the mission. Your pen hadn’t stopped writing as you signed off on patient notes, confirming what you had put down when you examined them.

It was nearing ten in the morning when your personal phone began to buzz. You glanced up from your notes, grabbing it and looking at the notifications.

ROOS: Alive?

It was your best friend. He texted you every few months to make sure you were, indeed, alive. He fought you tooth and nail about you joining the 141, that’s why you don’t talk as often as you used to.

YOU: Maybe. What’s up?

ROOS: Just checking

YOU: You okay?

ROOS: Had a bad dream.

ROOS: Are you okay? Are you safe?

It wasn’t often that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw asked if you were safe. It wasn’t often that he texted you at all. Your nightmares were about surviving a plane crash, eating dinner next to frozen and rotting corpses in a town in Ukraine - his nightmares were of flying back day after you crashed to explode your plane so the enemy had no access to the technology, his nightmares were of the weeks of mourning he did of you because your rescue was a classified Special Forces op. That and sometimes, it was of the night you two don’t speak about anymore. He’s protective of you.

YOU: Yes, I’m safe. And at work. I’ve got like 10 guard dogs.

ROOS: Okay

YOU: One of them’s a real dog

YOU: Are you okay? Do you need me to call you?

ROOS: No

YOU: Was it about Ukraine or about Nevada?

ROOS: Nevada

Well, there goes the not talking about that specific traumatic night.

YOU: Do you want to talk about it?

A knock sounded at your door, you glanced up from your phone to let out a calm, “Come in.”

The door opened quickly as you heard the clack of claws on the concrete, you pushed your chair away - a smile invaded your face. Cerberus yapped like a puppy, his front paws coming to set on your thighs as you took his face in one hand, scratching his head with the other while still holding your phone. “Hi, baby.”

The German Shepherd shoved himself forwards, his wet tongue licking your nose and cheek - you pushed him down and laughed, “No kisses, honey, we’re working.”

“He likes you a lot more than he ever will me.” You looked up to see the familiar cloth skull mask of Keegan, his hands shoved in his pockets. You smiled at him.

“How’s your chest? Doing okay?”

Keegan nodded, moving forwards to place Cerberus’s blue leash on your desk. He shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Just came to say thank you.”

Your eyes widened a fraction, hands stopped petting Cerberus - who whined in annoyance. His wet snout pushed underneath your hand, trying to get you to continue to pet him. “I just did my job.”

He sighed, going to pull the chair opposite of you out. He sat down quickly, hands wringing each other. “You didn’t-“ He paused. “You almost died.”

“Part of the job.” Your eyes glanced at your files on your desk before you set your phone on your desk.

“I remember how bad your nightmares were when you first joined us.” He recalled, hands settling on his thighs before he finally locked eyes with you. “Just wanted to make sure you’re gonna be okay before we leave.”

“So soon?” Your eyes widened with surprise. “I thought Price was keeping you guys here for a couple more months.”

“That plant they’re building is something big. Caught the eyes of the US Navy, which means-“

“Top Gun.” You finished for your friend, he gave you a knowing look. The only thing he knew was that something bad happened to you on a mission in Top Gun, he knew about the nightmares.

“Look on the bright side,” Keegan’s voice pulled you from almost jumping off the precipice into what could happen. Your hands clenched into fists. “You’re a very important medical Captain, and you’re not under their jurisdiction anymore.”

You would think. You wanted to say that Laswell kept you as a standby pilot, even though she promised you she’d never make you fly. So, in the eyes of the US Government, you were still a Top Gun asset. A damn good one at that, to the point you knew that Top Gun was pestering Laswell for you back. You wouldn’t tell Keegan that though - he’d rip someone’s throat out with his teeth.

Keegan cleared his throat. “You don’t ever have to fly again, Mercy.”

Before Ghost, there was Keegan who woke you from nightmares. Sure, he wouldn’t hold you but he’d sit next to you and quietly talk about something random, something informational - like the design and sinking of ships. If you put thought to those talks, you would be able to talk about his favorite ships. He was a good friend, incredibly loyal. You were the same.

You nodded, hands going back to pet Cerberus, whose head had settled on your thigh, eyes gazing up at you. You looked at him and smiled, scratching behind his ear. He let out a happy little yap before you looked back at Keegan, a solemn nod came from him.

“You know my number, Mercy.”

“Rest up, Sergeant.” You commented, he stood then.

He walked towards the door, opening it before he took a brief pause, looking back at you. “Be careful with Ghost.” And with that, he was out the door and had shut it behind him. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Keegan had known you two had been together since… you got together. What does that mean?

Cerberus whined, making you look back at him. He raised his paw and smacked your leg, you pet him with one hand as you grabbed your phone again, seeing more messages from Rooster.

ROOS: Trying to wake you up in your apartment. Then it was me running to the ER with you in my arms.

ROOS: I hated that feeling

ROOS: I still hate it

ROOS: I’m sorry I’m bothering you

ROOS: Please don’t tell me if you have a boyfriend again

You internally groaned, knowing how incredibly protective he got of you because of your last relationship - which was almost five years ago. You kept scratching behind Cerberus’ ear, his leg thumped against the floor.

YOU: …Surprise?

ROOS: I think I’m going to have a heart attack

ROOS: I’m gonna throw up

YOU: If it makes you feel any better, we’ve been together for a year and a half and he hasn’t done anything to me other than make me overthink things. He loves me and I know he does

ROOS: It does not make me feel better you ass. YEAR AND A HALF AND YOU HAVEN’T TOLD ME

ROOS: And stop fucking saying shit like ‘oh he loves me, he loves me not’ . That’s exactly what happened last time, you’re starting to fucking freak me out

YOU: I don’t know what else to tell you. He’s a good man.

ROOS: Last time you said that I broke my entire hand in a man’s face. Please tell me you’re safe

You wouldn’t have taken that shit from anyone else. If anyone snapped at you like that in person, they’d be on their back with a knife on their throat. By you or your guard dogs - Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro; Rudy, if you asked nicely. All the men you’ve grown to cherish their companies.

You began to type to Rooster again when there was another knock on your door, three in rapid succession. Your eyebrows furrowed, slightly annoyed. “Yes?”

The door flung open, Cerberus whined when you stopped scratching his ear as you stood, seeing Soap stumble in with a hand on his head. You flung your phone onto your desk, eyes widened. Right behind him was Alejandro and, unsurprisingly, Ghost. You were immediately around Cerberus and your desk, reaching for Soap as he groaned in pain. “What the Hell happened?!”

“Muppets got too involved in their trainin’.” Ghost growled, Alejandro gave you a smile to which you noticed the bloody gash on his forehead.

“You’re both idiots.” You grabbed Soap’s arm and pulled him towards your cot, motioning Alejandro to follow. Cerberus weaved through your patients effortlessly, immediately going straight for Ghost. He pawed at Ghost’s leg while you forced and Sergeant and Colonel to sit on your makeshift examination table. Both of them stared at you, Soap looked like he was out of it. You grabbed a pair of medical gloves, pulling them on quickly.

“Also might be nursin’ a hangover.” Soap mumbled, you rolled your eyes. Of course he had gone out last night. You would have smacked him upside the head had he not been cradling it. You forced him to move his head, seeing the bloody gash on the back of his head near his mohawk.

“Christ, how hard did you headbutt each other?” You mumbled, going to grab your med kit.

“Was his fault.” Alejandro murmured, closing his eyes. “Feels like he cracked my head open like a coconut.” You pulled out your pocket flashlight from your vest, making Soap face you again.

“Keep your eyes open and look at my nose.” The Scot blinked a few times before staring at your nose, you flashed the light into his eyes - they were both reactive, so there wasn’t brain damage. You held up your finger. “Follow my finger.” His eyes followed your finger back and forth, he was responsive so you weren’t worried. You put the flashlight back in your vest before moving Soap’s head again to look at the gash. “Helluva hit, fellas.”

“Thanks.” Both Soap and Alejandro said, the Colonel laughed.

“Didn’t mean to hitcha that hard, hermano.” Soap mumbled as you moved to Alejandro, instructing him the same way. Look at my nose, follow my finger - his coffee like eyes were sinkholes, he did as you told him. If you had taken a moment to set back, you would’ve said that he was your new version of Rooster. A Special Op Limited Edition, with better maintained hair and great jawline.

If you weren’t so enraptured by Simon, you would’ve dove for Alejandro the second he gave you any sort of glare. But no, you’d choose your ice cold boyfriend over a cowboy casanova. Maybe in another life.

You moved the Colonel’s head towards you. It was a thin cut on his forehead, jagged but nothing a small bandage can’t fix. You turned around, peeling off your gloves before grabbing your phone. You opened it, amazed at how many texts Rooster had sent.

ROOS: Please don’t ignore me right now I will get Ice on the phone this instant

ROOS: I mean it

ROOS: Sorry you’re probably busy

ROOS: Just stay safe please.

ROOS: I can’t have a repeat of that shit .I’ll lose my mind

ROOS: Call me when you’re free

ROOS: Please

ROOS: I really don’t want to have to go detective on you and show up at your doorstep like a dog

ROOS: Cause I will

ROOS: You’re worrying me, please don’t make me have to call Mav. If I have to call Mav you will never hear the end of it I SWEAR IT. YOU’LL HEAR ABOUT IT UNTIL YOU’RE DEAD

YOU: I’m working, I’ll text you later

“Dramatic bitch,” You mumbled to yourself before turning your phone off. You moved across the room to your sink. You began to wash your hands as Cerberus poked you with his nose. You glanced down at him. “Go play with Dumb and Dumber, buddy. I’ll be a minute.”

The dog whined, pawing at your leg and poking you with his snout again. He wasn’t alerting, he was trying to get your attention. A search and rescue dog like Cerberus had no job right now since he was on base, except to sometimes get in your way. You gave him a sharp glare. “Now.”

Cerberus let out a loud whine of annoyance before he huffed, walking away towards Alejandro.

“Don’t have to be mean to the poor dog, lass.” Soap commented, you shot him a glare when you dried your hands with a paper towel. He threw his hands up.

“He knows I’ve got stuff going on, he likes to be bothersome.” You pulled on new gloves and grabbed the equipment you needed, moving your chair over to the cot with your foot. You sat down gracelessly, setting bandages and hydrogen peroxide on your lap. You pulled a cotton swab from your vest, opening it and then dousing it in the peroxide.

You took Soap’s head in your hand and moved it again, letting the light shine into it as you dabbed on the peroxide - the man flinched.

“You’re usually chatty, hermana - what’s wrong?”

You glanced at Alejandro, tossing the swab into the garage can behind you. “Friend texted me. Chatted for a while.”

“You not like her or somethin’?” Soap asked, you settled the small adhesive bandage over his injury, sticking it to his shaved head with firm pressure. “You mind not pressin’ that hard?”

You smirked, waving him off. “You’re done.” The Sergeant smiled and stood, walking away from the cot while you faced Alejandro. “Bit of an argument, nothin’ new. Happens when you’ve known them your whole life.”

“Oh?” Alejandro smiled. “Like me and Rudy.”

You shrugged. “When I say my whole life, I mean as soon as I was brought home, I had a best friend.”

“Ah, not like me and Rudy.” He chuckled then, you cleaned the wound with another cotton swab and some peroxide - he didn’t even react.

“Not even close. I didn’t get a choice.” You threw away the swab, opening another bandage.

“You always have a choice in the people you keep company with.” Alejandro closed his eyes as you opened the bandage.

“Not when you’ve both put your lives on the line for each other without question, like I would all of you.” You mumbled, securing the bandage a lot softer than Soap. “Maybe not to the length I would for Roos, but it might be near it.”

“Roos?” Soap echoed, suddenly right next to you as you turned the opposite way to toss the trash into the bin.

“Nickname.” You shrugged, pulling off your gloves and standing. You gestured to the door. “You can leave now, just take some Tylenol if the pain persists.”

Cerberus whined as Alejandro stood, saying a quick farewell as he darted out the door - Soap lingered as you pushed your chair back to your desk. “You’re always so mean.”

“It’s,” You glanced at the digital clock on your desk. “almost eleven. I might just want to go get something to eat,” You sat down, throwing your feet up on your desk as you glared at the Scot. “Maybe I want to sit in silence like I was for the past five hours.”

“Aww, lass, you just wanna get railed by-“

“That’ll do.” Ghost’s voice boomed, making you jump a little as Soap whipped his head to look at his Lieutenant.

Cerberus found his way to you again, pawing at your leg. You reached forwards and scratched behind his ear as you watched Soap and Ghost have a small stare down. Soap backed down after a few seconds, glancing at you and then Ghost. “I’m going to take my leave.”

“As you should.” Ghost’s voice was low, both of you watched as he scurried out of the room, almost slamming the door behind him. You looked to Ghost, who visibly decompressed as he moved towards your cot in sluggish motions. He collapsed onto it, the cot let out a groan under his weight and his mask went straight into the white pillow you kept at the head of it.

You cocked your head to one side. “You hurt too?”

“No.” His voice was muffled.

“You’re just gonna sleep in here?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” You grabbed your phone again, hand leaving Cerberus as you pointed to Ghost. “Go lay down with Dad.”

The German Shepherd would never not take the opportunity to jump onto Ghost, even in a position like that. The dog sprinted the two feet away and jumped onto the Lieutenant’s back, he groaned loudly in pain. Cerberus’s tail wagged with a quick pace as he laid his head on Ghost’s shoulder blades. You quickly took a picture of it before sending it to Rooster.

YOU: oh no! my guard dog killed my guard dog :(

ROOS: THAT MAN IS HUGE .

YOU: Thanks! he’s mine :)

ROOS: I CANT KILL A MAN THAT BIG

YOU: Won’t need to. Pretty sure he’d die before he even raised his voice to me he’d be so ashamed.

YOU: I love him.

ROOS: you have got to stop having boyfriends. my heart can’t take it

YOU: You’re a clingy bitch.

ROOS: well at least someone cares for your well-being 🤍

YOU: My boyfriend does.

ROOS: Don’t fucking say that shit. I’m not getting traumatized again cause that guy is not a man, he is 100% a demon

YOU: LMAO

ROOS: HOW IS HE SO BIG

YOU: Idk. Go to bed idiot

ROOS: Fuck off

YOU: Love you too, clingy bitch.

ROOS: You’re a bitch too

YOU: All day, everyday.

“You’re not paying attention to me.”

You looked up from your phone, seeing now that he moved his head to look at you. Cerberus’s head rested where his nose settled right next to where Ghost’s ear would be. You put your phone down on your desk, putting your feet on the floor as you gazed at him. “I have never heard you say that before.”

“Maybe fuckin’ you would put your attention back on me.”

You rolled your eyes, setting back in your seat. “You’ll always have my attention. I’ve got to keep Roos updated before I get a search party sent on my ass.”

“Sounds clingy.” He murmured, you could barely see as his eyes closed.

“Sounds like what you would do if I didn’t answer your text right away.” You commented, looking at the files you had stared at all morning before stretching your arms above your head. “I’m probably gonna take a half day.”

Ghost hummed from the cot, Cerberus whined from above him. “Take the mutt with you.”

“Always.”

The man moved his body, making Cerberus jump from his back - Ghost groaned in pain. He rolled over like an oaf, since he was bigger than the cot itself. You smiled at him as he looked back to you. “C’mon.”

It was often that he would waltz into your office unannounced and collapse onto your cot, beckoning you to come lay on him. And you did, every time. You gracelessly climbed onto him, settling your head under his chin and stretching your legs out over his.

“You didn’t sleep last night.”

Your sort-of-happy mood completely fizzled out like a flame doused in water. You could’ve sworn he was asleep when you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, holding yourself in the bathtub until you felt like you could breathe again.

“Where’d do go?”

“Tub.” You murmured, hand crawling up his side and settling on his shoulder. “Had a bad nightmare.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t tell you about it.” You spoke immediately, the phantom feeling of flames licking your skin made you bury your face into his clothed neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, uh…” His gloved hand went to your hair, petting you gently. “You know where I am.”

“Not really, not all the time.” You whispered, hand clutching his sleeve.

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “I guess not.”

“Is this your way of trying to make it up to me?”

He stilled a little, it wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t laying on his entire body. You drank in the fading smell of his musky cologne he wore sometimes, pressing the top of your head into the bottom of his jaw.

“It’s hard.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to.”

You moved your head up, raising it so you could see his eyes. “At least you’re trying.” You leaned forwards and kissed his cheek, then rolled off of him with a groan. “Alright, I’m going home. Need my key?”

He shrugged as you walked over to your small rucksack, checking what you had in it. “No, got the spare. I’ll lock up when I’m done.”

You looked over your shoulder him, seeing his arm over his eyes. You shook your head before grabbing Cerberus’a leash from your desk and walking back to him. You placed a kiss on the exposed skin of his arm and spoke, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Mmhmm.”

_________________

Simon always made you take the car, the nice SUV he bought for himself yet will not drive - always makes up an excuse to have you drive, and you were grateful. You weren’t even sure he had a driver’s license, let alone any knowledge of driving. He was always keen to walk home anyway.

Cerby dove into the apartment as soon as you opened the door, he immediately sprinted his way to the living room. It wasn’t long before you heard a couple of glass bottles hit the rug and you groaned.

“Cerby, come here.” You called, dropping your rucksack on the floor and shutting the door behind you. You would have taken your boots off, but you had no idea what he had knocked over in the living room. You walked into it, seeing that your dog laid on the couch, tongue hanging out from his mouth and his ears perked. You rolled your eyes, looking down at the rug. There was three empty bottles of the bourbon you knew was Simon’s favorite, your eyebrows furrowed. You kneeled, taking a bottle in one hand and seeing how there was no alcohol left in it. Placing it on the table, you pulled the two other bottles onto the table before noticing a small folded piece of paper under where the bottles had lied.

A knot in your stomach began to tug as you grasped the piece of paper, pulling the piece of paper open and recognizing Simon’s handwriting.

My love,

I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it but, I do trust you. I trust you a whole hell of a lot.

But what we have isn’t worth the pain, I am not worth the pain. If you wanted me to leave, I would. No one has stuck around this long anyway, you won’t hurt me.

But I hate that I’m hurting you. I think the best choice is for me to leave. I’ll always be here for you, you have my number. I’ll send you where I’ll be. I’d rather you be happy without me than miserable with me.

I love you.

That felt like a punch to the gut.

It felt like a knife wedged in between two of your ribs, digging and twisting.

No one has stuck around this long anyway.

Is this the pain he felt, waiting for you? Drowning in his sorrows, going to leave you to save you pain? It made a part of you angry, yet all of you felt ashamed. You had hurt him too.

But he hadn’t left. He had to have written it before you came home because he did not spend one moment without you since you arrived home.

It hurt your heart that he thought his best decision was to run. It hurt to know that he probably felt scared, that he ducked back into that dark place in his head. He was drunk last night, he might not even remember himself writing it - but in case he did, you folded the note again. You placed it on the floor, placing the empty bottles how they were after Cerberus made them fall. You stood, feeling as if you had held a gun to Simon’s heart and pulled the trigger.

Even as you walked back towards your bathroom to shower, you could still feel the gunpowder residue on your hands.

———————

(comment for part 4! it will get better from here, i promise (aka more fucking angst HAHHA))

taglist! (some i wasn’t able to tag, i’m sorry!)

@luhvbot @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @ladystarfishnut @chris3tom2pau1rdj @kat-nee @efsa-lks @angelsquidd @marytvirgin @medivalpersephone @ramadiiiisme @blueoorchid @guiltyconfessions @abbiesxox @lockleywife @nicomactavish @nose235678 @lumpypoll @multi-fandomlovers-world @holyfeck @thriving-n-jiving @kgive @simonsdoll @crazyfandomist @ryunniez @sofasoap @depressedacidtest @angelinathron @dindjarinsbby @kluhhsu @lazyperfectioniste @keiva1000 @jellyedkazoo @le0thely0n @1sam1 @lovecats123451 @erensonly @cielobgers @sunniiiiiiiiii @d1lf-luvr @thekuroinsomething @lake-145 @badpvn @guineapigzwei @qualitypudding @mariamorim28 @s0meth1ngs-n0t-r1ght @doodle-cat16 @5seastar @horniestbutterfly

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fictionallystable · 8 months ago

Text

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games)

Relationship: Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)/Reader

Characters: Reader, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Author Has Played Call of Duty, Childhood Friends, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Civilian!Reader, Pre-Canon, Jealousy, Angst, Kissing, Mild Smut, Time Skips, Brother's Best Friend, Toxic Family Dynamics, Eventual Smut, Drama, Misunderstandings, Getting Together, Minor Age Gap

Words: 9,080| Chapters: 4/5

Authors: @orphancains & @collinnmckinley

Chapter 4: The Engagement Party

Chapter Summary: You're invited to Matty's engagement party and run into a familiar face—only for everything to seemingly fall apart.

A/N: agian we are extremely apologetic for the late update. life got hectic for both of us and hit us like a bus. and we were too exahsted from everything to even think about writing. but here we are!!! with a longer chapter to make it up to yall!! we really hope you enjoy this one c: only one chapter left to go ;) (likes and reblogs are appreciated <3)

the fic can also be found on AO3

tags will be updated!!

You felt nauseous at the thought of returning home for Matty’s engagement party. You’d been living out of town, happy with your job as an architect even if it meant you sometimes went months without seeing family. But you preferred it that way, with less judgment from your parents for choosing to postpone your own engagement yet again.

With your boyfriend Richard’s arm around your waist, you braced yourself for the booming cheers from your mother and father when they saw you. Immediately, they enveloped you in hugs and shook you with delight.

“[Y/N], oh, it’s so good to see you! We’ve missed you so much.”

“The drive must’ve been tiring, huh? How’s work been, Richard?”

“[Y/N], your figure looks great! And that skirt is gorgeous!”

Ah, yes. The skirt Richard picked out for me.

Your mother’s wrinkled, smiling eyes rubbed your back as you made your way to the living room for a drink, while Richard stayed in the hall with your father, enraptured in more dull small talk. The stiff smile you had kept carved on your face all this time suddenly melted into a real one when you saw Bear, your dog, laying on the ground.

You knelt down immediately to pet him, forgetting the drink your mom was getting you. You rubbed your hands through his long, brown fur as he wagged his tail back and forth. He panted excitedly, leaning up trying to lick your cheek. You laughed. “I’m glad you’re looking good, Bear,” you said to the dog. He had been staying comfortably with your mother for the past 6 months, enjoying her leftovers but far away from you. Every night, you wished you could cuddle up with the dog. But Richard insisted that no dogs be allowed in your apartment.

“ I can’t handle all the hair, especially with it sticking to my suits. And I doubt you’ll have the time to clean up after a German Shepherd’s furballs with your workload ,” you remembered he sourly sneered while he unpacked your boxes all those months ago.

“And Matty?” you asked your mom when she handed you a cup of soda and ice in a red plastic solo, while Bear rolled over on his back elatedly.

“He’s outside entertaining the guests with Elaine.” Your mom grinned. “Her parents seem to be very happy with our arrangement.”

You tried to smile, but a grimace cracked through instead. Ever since you graduated high school, your mother and father had insisted you get married quickly. Matty seemed to have no issue finding the right girl to propose to. You, on the other hand, well… you couldn’t see yourself with Richard. He was protective, he remembered your anniversaries, and he always made the time to take you on dates, to remember your favorite flowers, and always paraded you with pride at his own work parties. But the thought of saying “I do” to the man made your chest bubble with anxiety. And maybe even dread. Sometimes he was too protective, interrupted you too much, and sometimes took his sarcastic jokes too far to the point of cruelty. You were sensitive, ever since your adolescence. But… you could get used to it, right?

“Oh, that’s great news,” you muttered in reply to your mother.

Your mother leered at you from the corner of her eye. A mischievous but scrutinizing twinkle in her eyes. “Yes, it’s just a matter of time before you and Richard have your very own—”

“I should go say hi to Matty, yes?” You got up quickly and brushed the wrinkles from your skirt. “And of course, to my future sister-in-law…” you sputtered out as you scurried past your mother.

When you stepped out onto the back garden, you were hit once again with the warm, thick heat of the Texas night. You saw your brother from behind, with his arm around Elaine, whose long, pin-straight hung like a curtain from behind her, and a cold beer in his hand. You saw they were laughing while they chatted to an older man and woman you didn’t recognize, crinkled skin and silvery but pin-straight thin hair that Elaine had. From what you could guess, they must’ve been Elaine’s parents.

It was hard to hide your joy at seeing your brother. You sauntered up to your brother, wanting to catch up with him. Last time you’d seen him, he’d been arguing with your dad about the very idea of proposing to Elaine. He wanted to wait another couple of months, but your father insisted Elaine would start to get impatient and would find another husband, another arrangement. Your brother had stormed off that day, driven away in his car, uttering nothing more than a “Not now!” at you when you had asked if he was okay.

“Matty!” you called out to your brother from where you stood. Your smile couldn’t get any wider. Yes you spoke with your brother every week when work let you, but it's been a long while since you last saw your brother in person.

So when he heard your voice calling his name, he turned to see you standing there, at your parents backyard porch, waving to him excitedly, he couldn’t help but let out an airy laugh and immediately started to make his way to you. You did the same and both met in the middle as you scooped you in a hug lifting your feet off the ground. Oh how he missed his baby sister. Although all grown up.

Seeing how excitedly Matty basically ran towards you, it made Elaine chuckle and shake her head. She knew how strong the sibling bond you and your brother shared, and she found it extremely endearing and adorable in a way she can never experience, as she was the only child.

As Matty let you down on the ground again, Elaine made her way to greet you. When you saw her you couldn’t help but hug her too. You liked Elaine, she was like a sister you never had, and you couldn’t be happier for both of them.

“It’s so good to see you [Y/N]! We missed you so much” Elaine told you, her smile was bright and contagious. You couldn’t help but to mirror her excitement and feeling.

“It’s good to see you both too! I’m so sorry I couldn’t get earlier work got in the way, and we packed at the last minute-” you expressed how regretful you were about how late you arrived. You truly meant to arrive earlier, to help your brother and his wife-to-be with the arrangement of the party, but the universe had other plans for you.

Before you went on a tangent, Matty cut you off with his usual reassuring demeanor.

“Nonsense! You’re here and that's what matters.” Elaine nodded, as Matty’s hand came around her shoulder. They truly looked like a couple made for each other.

“Oh! Before you go or do anything, I gotta show you who’s here!” Matty said, his excitement meant trouble. For some reason you were worried.

“Oh there he is! Just the man I was looking for hah!” Matty was looking over your shoulder when he spoke.

As you turned around like any normal person would do to see who your brother was talking about, the air was knocked out of you immediately as your eyes landed on him.

“Phil…” you sputtered out, quiet enough for it to be a whisper.

Phillip Graves stood a few feet away from you, far enough to reach in a couple of steps. And that's what he did when your brother called him over. The Phillip Graves was standing in front of you now, except now he was older. His hair was still the light brown, almost blonde hair that had as a teen. His tan skin now was littered with a few scars, on accenting his cheek bone. You remembered he was tall, always athletic, as a kid from playing varsity football and soccer. But now, he had filled out muscles under his burgundy t-shirt and light-wash jeans. And he still towered over you just enough that you had to peer up to meet his blue eyes.

With a surprised, almost confused smile, he repeated your name back to you.

“Phillip... Phil…” you breathed out, still in disbelief. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Of course he’s gonna be here, silly! He’s my best friend, I couldn’t have a wedding without him being my best man can I?” you’re brother jokes. Before you could say anything to him, you heard a distant voice calling his name. He answers “coming!”, but not before bidding you both to have a good time and catch up.

He knows how much Phil meant to you, and he knows for sure for the past fifteen years how much you tried to forget him.

You watched as your brother and his fiancee in his arms went to tend to the other guests, before turning to Phillip, who’s smile grew into one of his beaming ones that you’d grown familiar with as a teen. “Hopefully seeing me ain’t a bad surprise.” He winks at you teasingly before smiling softly. He gestured to the plastic, white porch table nearby. “D’ya wanna sit?”

Tentatively, you took a seat across from him at the table. He looked around, almost looking bored, as he took a drink of his own beer bottle. But you knew Phil. He wasn’t disinterested. You could tell from the way he was bouncing his left leg in slight nervousness.

“So, how have you been [Y/N]? I heard you became a big shot architect in Seattle! Not gonna lie, I thought that you’d become a famous artist with her own exhibit all across the country.” Phillip genuinely sounded happy and surprised, leaning back in his chair, hands intertwining on his torso. A habit he picked up during his time away from home in the Marine Corps.

You smiled at him. He recognized that as the one your mother trained you to show new people. It only got sweeter—and prettier—as you grew older, he thought. It suited you even as you were no longer a little girl and now a beautiful, grown woman. Graves’ heart strings tugged, and for a split second, and only for that tiny moment, he was taken off guard.

“Yeah.” You paused but only for a second. “Things turned out differently. But I can't complain.” That sweet smile still plastered on your face. Phil couldn’t believe it, how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve grown. How beautiful you’ve become-

“Things… didn’t end well the last time we saw each other.” He was lost in thought again but your voice brought him back.

“Or rather didn’t see.” You murmured.

He knitted his brows in confusion. “I’m not following.”

Annoyance began to stir inside you. You huffed and looked away.

He nearly stammered his words. “From what I last remember; we had a blast at your birthday party, Matty gave you a puppy, the one that he’d been planning months to get for you. And I—”

“And you left.” Your eyes, returning to him and now darker with hurt, pierced straight into his eyes, and your silky voice cut him like a sharp knife. “Practically the next day.” “Without saying a single word to me about your enlistment that day.” A sad, but bitter, smile adorned your face, eyes cast downward. As the memories of that day continued to unfurl for you, a dormant resentment continued to bubble in the depths of your viscera.

“You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Matty properly let alone me.” Your voice was softer now, but he could still see the hurt behind your eyes. “Much less to my parents who—”

“Listen, [Y/N], I didn’t—” He clenched his jaw and dragged his chair closer, hoping to keep his voice low. He felt embarrassed to be having this conversation with you in the first place in your parents’ backyard. And he especially didn’t want Matty to know you were talking about this with him. Still, he felt he owed you an explanation. “I didn’t want to scare you….” he stops and looks at you, in his eyes an emotion you have never seen before swims, you can't decipher it, but it somehow looks familiar. “Or hurt you for that matter.”

He shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. He scoffed, just barely audible to you. “But be realistic for a moment. What did you expect me to say to you? ‘Hey, kiddo, I’m off to join the Marine Corps. Might die or get a limb or two blown off. Make sure you do your homework and don’t stay up too late playing video games with Matty! Bye!”

Phil couldn’t help being defensive of his actions that summer, a bit too defensive even to his liking. He sighs and continues with a bit of a calmer voice. Phil knew that his answer wasn’t half-assed, but he still knew they could be biting. Although he didn’t want to reopen old wounds, he also didn’t want to lie to you. Especially not now that you were no longer a child, and not just Matty’s kid sister. “I did what I thought was right, for you… and me. And I wouldn’t change it if I had to do it again. That’s the truth.”

You blinked. You couldn’t help but hear something alien in his voice, a tone so unfamiliar in your memories of him as kids. Was it sorrow? Remorse? Pain? You couldn’t figure it out. But you know it was something not to be pushed any further. As a kid you never understood why he did what he did, but as you grew older, somehow you knew that as a child everyone’s decisions were outside your range of understanding. You had accepted what happened. Or at least you thought you did. But today that young girl returned, took back control your body and mind, and you found yourself spluttering these words to Phil.

Sitting with his own answers, you sat in silence. You watched as he leaned back and eyed you carefully. His eyes were still the same baby blue ones that always gazed at you with brotherly affection all those years, the ones that sparkled when the Texan summer sun’s rays cast on them. But now you felt a hardness radiating from behind them, one that would make anyone else cower and feel smaller. Years in military combat had definitely changed him and his gaze. Indeed, you did feel like he was studying every inch of your face and body, scanning you as if trying to profile you, maybe like he did with the captured combatants in whatever war in which he fought. You tried your hardest to return the intensity of his stare, but it was hard to compete with the icy look in his eyes.

But behind his colder eyes was a burning curiosity that he was successful in concealing from you. It was a curiosity he didn’t expect to experience tonight, because he never expected to see you, Matty’s beloved little sister, again. In all his memories, some more faded and fuzzier than others, you remained a little girl whose clothes were stained with paint and fingers sometimes still smudged from soft pastels or even charcoal from your art. In his mind, you still had baby cheeks and wore Matty’s old hand-me-down clothes and hoodies. But before him, he never expected Matty’s little sister, now a woman, to be sitting before him. He almost wanted to curse himself for immediately noticing when you walked to the table how your curves fit the skirt you wore. And when you sat across from him, he caught himself glancing more than once at your chest when your arms folded just beneath it.

He clenched his jaw. God, if Matty even caught the places his eyes were traveling when he saw you, he was sure he was going to get his ass kicked and his face pounded in by Matty’s notorious fist. Grown up or not, you were still his sister. And this was also still Matty’s engagement party, and he couldn’t ruin it. And you were clearly still torn up about his sudden, unannounced enlistment all those years ago. This was not the place or time to be thinking of… other things.

What disrupted his curious gaze from roaming over you was a sole tear that began to trickle down the corner of your eye. Just one, and one that you quickly wiped away with your hand before it could ruin much of your makeup. But it was enough to know that, once again, Phil had made you upset. He internally wanted to bang a fist against the table. He was hoping you would lash out at him, he would let you burn off some of the steam that you couldn’t when you were both kids, he knew how much you controlled your rage, and he wished you would finally let it out even if it was on him. Let you both make fools of yourselves that night, so he could feel less remorse. But instead, the silence from you that he was me with was damning him more than he could expect.

When you refused to say anything, Phil anxiously whirled the cold glass bottle in his hands. “But, I was also an idiot,” Phil spat out suddenly.

Your furrowed brows softened, noticing how Phil’s eyes melted into what you couldn’t intercept at first. But you soon realized it was a miserable mixture of hurt and regret. “I just wanted to get away from my folks, you know. Even though they were hardly ever home, I still felt like they controlled every aspect of my life. So…” He breathed out. “So, I’m sorry.”

“I get that,” was all you said as you mindlessly twirled the bracelet around your wrist. As you did so, his eyes glanced down at your hand on the table, the same ones that were always covered in stubborn faded blue and yellow hues of paint. He swallowed when he noticed that, unlike Matty whom he’d spoken to earlier, you had no ring on your left hand. Before you could notice, Phil quickly glanced back up at your face, and was relieved to see that your harsh scowl from before had melted away. “I just wish you could’ve told me that then. But I… I get that I was too young. We were both pretty stubborn when it came to talking about anything serious, but we cared—”

Before you could finish, you heard a booming voice call out your name. You turned and saw Richard beckoning you to where he stood, while your parents stood to the side and grinned giddily together. Suddenly the whole party had grown strangely quiet. Beside the ice cooler, you noticed a bluetooth speaker playing a familiar soft rock song. One that you distinctly remember as the one Richard played in the car after your first date together at the theme park, and the same one you two danced to in his old apartment when you both were tipsy one night.

You got up from your seat. Next to you Phil also suddenly wondered why so many eyes were on you and this unfamiliar man. You started walking toward him and your parents, wondering what in the world was happening, and why your boyfriend was standing in the middle of the backyard like he was about to give a speech. Oh no, I've seen this scenario happening in public one too many times. This does not look good…. Your internal monologue was put in a pause when you looked around to find your brother, and when your eyes landed on his and his fiance, you knew with one look they did not seem pleased of what was going on.

“[Y/N],” he started. “We’ve only known each other for a few months…”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Matty muttered from a few feet away from where Phil sat.

Phil blinked a couple of times. His gut was telling him he knew exactly what was going on, but he himself couldn’t believe it. Not after he just reunited with Y/N a few minutes earlier.

Elaine tried to calm Matty down silently, but Matty was furious. “I specifically told them not to pull this shit, not on this occasion. Jesus fucking Christ.” Elaine didn’t need to hear him say it, but she knew who he was referring to when he said ‘they’.

Richard continued. “But you’ve made me a better man, a man with bigger, better ambitions, a man who can see himself becoming a family man. Beyond just a businessman, a partner, a rock to lean on, someone who could build a home with you and raise a family together.”

When he got down on one knee, you felt your heart stop and all the muscles in your body seize. You tightened your jaw, dormant rage igniting all over again. You didn’t know if you wanted to run away and flee the scene or smash Richard’s head with the beer bottle from a nearby table, but you felt as though your shoes were glued to the dry grass. “Y/N,” he said as he took a ring out of his jacket pocket.

You looked up frantically and saw your mother on the verge of happy tears and your father with a proud grin but his hands tucked in his suit jacket’s pockets, much like when he is negotiating a business deal at work. You knew immediately that this was not simply Richard’s doing. No, you had told Richard as recently as last night at bedtime that you would rather wait at least when you hit 30 before even considering marriage. This was your parents handing you off to Richard, hoping and desperately trying to have their wealth merge with Richard’s own family wealth. Just like you feared in every conversation you had with your mom and dad, you feared you represented nothing more than a simple pawn in another one of your dad’s business deals.

You glanced back down at Richard, the sour sneer on your face growing harder and harder for you to conceal. You could feel your hands trembling now by your side, and the cup of soda in your hand threatening to get crushed.

“Will you do me the honor of letting me call you my wife?”

You heard murmurs and all around you from the backyard. The night’s spotlight was now on you, no longer on Matty and Elaine, and that made you grind your teeth even more. You didn’t want extra attention. It was bad enough that suddenly your childhood crush crashed the party and made you relive your teenage hormones and heartbreak. Richard and your parents both knew how uncomfortable you felt coming back home, and suddenly they decided to make you have to answer a marriage proposal in front of all your relatives, friends, and neighbors.

You glared down at Richard, who was oblivious to the storm raging in your mind. “You’re out of your fucking mind,” you spat out, with a low and harsh voice, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. You whipped your head up furiously to glare directly at your mom and dad. “And you two! You two are unbelievable. You should be ashamed of yourselves!” Your throat ached from how harshly you growled at them.

Without another word, not even a “no” to dignify Richard’s proposal, you threw your cup of soda at Richard’s face. The half-melted ice-cubes and cold Sprite made him flinch and get back up to his feet quickly. A chorus of gasps erupted from behind and around you.

“You spoiled brat!” your mother shrieked. The disdain and disappointment on her face was one so familiar, but one that still brought your heart racing anxiously and your lips to quiver. Your father stood frozen in shock beside her. He himself didn’t expect you to react in such a way. He thought tonight would be another business success for him. “Do you know how much we had sacrificed for you? And you decide to act like a child? When will you grow up?l!”

“THIS IS INSANE!”

Your eyes snapped to the source of outburst and landed on Matty standing near where Phil and you had been sitting. Phil remained at his seat watching all of this unfold with amusement, as Matty was walking towards where your parents had been standing, with determination of giving an earful to them most likely, but before he could start what he had to say your voice decided to come out on its own accord.

“Oh mother… How can you still be so stubborn about this? How could you pull this stunt at Matty’s engagement party, your own son's engagement party? Do you have no shame? Either of you?” Your voice determined and harsh. Even your mother was taken aback by your bold retort. Her speechlessness only allowed you to continue your tirade. “I told you at least a hundred times that I don’t have any plans to get married anytime soon. But you didn’t listen! That doesn’t surprise me; you hardly ever listen to me. But at least have some respect for your own goddamn son! Who has been nothing but an obedient child to you! Both of you! And this is how you treat him?! The least that you could have done was ask him and Elaine if this was okay with them!”

Your mother was stunned, the blood having drained from her face and her hand clutching her handbag tightly as she gawked at you. You’ve never been this brave with your words. You never talked back to either of your parents in all your youth. And if your father wasn’t just as speechless, he would’ve given you an earful, and even threatened you to remove you from inheritance. But you didn’t care, your patience ran thinner and thinner each year and this new stunt made all that remained evaporate in a matter of seconds.

You knew you couldn’t come back from this. The realization that there was a chance you’ll probably be shunned and even maybe disowned after this. You had run out of words, so you simply ran from the scene. Your spilled red cup of coke laid on the grass, something the ants in the yard would later indulge in. You bolted into your family’s house, your childhood home, which was mainly empty with everyone mingling in the evening out in the yard. You went into your room on instinct, but noticed your mom and dad had converted it into an office space for their work. Your jaw dropped as you realized they never kept your room the same way they had adoringly preserved Matty’s. You tightened your grip around the door knob. You wanted nothing more than to trash the room, break the desk that sat where your bed once did, and stomp on bookshelves that once held your comics and artbooks but now held folders of boring white paperwork.

But instead you fled to your brother’s room across the hall. You knelt down beside his bed, kicked off your shoes, and buried your face in a pillow. You let out a muffled scream. After a few seconds, your scream morphed into pathetic sobs. You knew you were surely staining Matty’s old pillows with your makeup, but you didn’t care at that moment. At that moment, it felt as though you time-traveled back fifteen years in your old home, crying your eyes out into your beloved brother’s pillow.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

Phil watched as Matty slouched on the plastic lounging chair outside. Almost everyone had left. Your mother and father stood near the backyard fence, arguing desperately about what to do next after you had ruined their evening. Richard stood next to them but remained mostly silent and merely listened to them. Elaine, Matty’s fiancée, trudged into the house in search of you. Meanwhile, Phil took a seat across from Matty, who ran his hands through his beard and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily out of frustration.

“Cannot believe they would fucking do that on tonight of all nights,” Matty groaned out.

Phil let out a low whistle. “Yeah definitely didn’t expect to see [Y/N] throw a cup of soda at some random guy.” It would almost be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that he had seen tears once again streaming down your face when you darted inside. “So, that was actually [Y/N]’s boyfriend or—”

“Unfortunately,” Matty spat out. “I can’t stand the guy. But our parents love Richard even though he’s a huge asshole to her half the time.”

“Huh…”

Phil tried to recall the man. He was tall and athletic. He seemed like the type to weight lift, worry about trends in luxury suits, and track his meals’ calories to keep up with his appearance and health everyday. His dark hair was slicked back with some gel, and his jaw was sharp and pronounced. His sharp, aquiline facial features reminded Phil of some of the college guys who would apply for internships to work for his dad’s firm during summers back when he was a kid. But something about him made Phil’s skin crawl. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that his entire personality seemed like a masquerade of wealth and opulence, or the fact that he was dating you , had the gall to propose to you , while also being an asshole to you, according to Matty at least.

“I can’t say I blame her for throwing the soda at him,” Phil snickered quietly.

Matty almost cracked a smile at this. Suddenly, he remembered why he called Phil his best friend for so many years of his life. “Trust me, if I could’ve thrown one too, I would’ve.”

Your father suddenly bellowed your name. “Come out! We need to have a talk!”

Phil and Matty quickly glanced at each other, worry coating both of their faces. They expected Elaine and you to come out together, Elaine probably holding a box of tissues and your eyes still swollen from crying. But instead, no one came out of the backyard door. They waited several seconds, until your father stormed toward the door to head inside himself. Richard trailed behind him, not nearly as full of energy. It seemed the would-be fiancé was still feeling dejected, even if the soda from early had already dried.

“Unbelievable,” your father growled, the door of the house slamming open violently with a bang.

Phil and Matty both got up quickly, following the man. They found you and Elaine sitting in the kitchen, you nursing a cup of warm tea and Elaine sitting next to you still attempting to console you. Your father rushed toward you, grabbing you by your shoulders, forcing your gaze away from your cup of tea and to his own red-beet face. The force of his grasp made your elbow knock into the mug, tumbling it to the ground with a sharp crash.

Elaine gasped sharply before stepping back in shock. Meanwhile, Bear emerged from the living room, his bushy tail stiff in the air in alert and his pointed ears slicked back against his head. He growled and barked furiously at the sight of your father grabbing you. Agape, you stared back at your father in horror, feeling all the muscles in your body suddenly become paralyzed in fear.

“How can you throw away your future just because of your own stubborn self-righteousness?! Didn’t we raise you better than to act so selfishly?!” your father yelled into your face.

Matty quickly grabbed your father’s arm, grabbing him by his gray blazer’s stiff fabric, and pulled him off of you. “Your dumb plan for the night was botched from the start, dad,” he sneered out. “She clearly doesn’t want to marry Richard and this was supposed to be our engagement party to begin with!” he looked at Elaine for a second saying that.

The graying wisps of hair on your fathers were now disheveled and sticking up, his sagging and wrinkled face now flushed with a furious red. He balled his fists as he spoke back to your brother. “What she did, regardless of what day it was, to Richard was unacceptable. Would you ever imagine Elaine treating you in such a way? No, of course not! Because [Y/N] is acting like a child, and an insolent one at that!”

He turned back to glare at you, taking one step further forward. “Richard, come here,” he said, his glower locked on you not wavering.

The tall, dark-haired man strode beside your father. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You had wounded your ego and in public in front of your friends and family, something he would seldomly allow without biting back. But he remained quiet ever since his botched proposal. Usually he would yell back, make a scene, demand he stay in a hotel for the night, after arguing with you over nonsense. But his silent, narrow-eyed stare bore down on you and made you feel uneasy. There was nothing calm or passive about it.

“So, why don’t we start over, hm? Why don’t the two of you go to the living room to discuss and… reconsider Richard’s proposal once again, yes?” Your father’s gritted teeth betrayed the false air of diplomacy he was trying to prop up.

“I don’t think—” Your brother was caught off.

“[Y/N],” your father said more sternly this time. “Now.”

Your brother wanted to continue to protest, but he knew your father would not take no for an answer right now. Not with his fists balled up and his face as red as it was. So Matty, Phil, and Elaine watched breathlessly as you and Richard walked to the living room by yourselves. Phil noticed how your hands shook ever so slightly, even while you kept your lips pursed and tried to straighten your blouse, desperately clinging onto any semblance of composure before talking to your boyfriend.

Breathing out an exasperated sigh, your father, the man Phil used to revere so much as a child, began to step outside back to the yard. “There better still be some drinks in the cooler. I need one right now,” he muttered. Your mother followed him, obediently, to avoid the thick air of tension that was suffocating everyone in the kitchen.

Phil couldn’t help but let curiosity get the best of him. While Elaine consoled Matty in hushed voices and picked up the broken glass on the kitchen tile, Phil drifted away from them. He could hear Elaine telling Matty that it was okay, that they could hold a smaller, more intimate engagement party next week with just close friends. He knew that he, too, should be trying to console Phil. But he was worried about you. He just couldn’t believe your family was pressuring you to marry.

Phil stood just outside the living room beside its entrance, leaning on his side against the wall and focusing on the little he could hear. Bear padded up to Phil. Much calmer now, the German Shepherd sat down and looked up at Phil with a panting smile. Phil wanted to smile and pet the dog, but instead brought his finger up to his own lips, hoping the dog wouldn’t alert everyone to what Phil was doing.

“—how embarrassed I was left feeling! In front of everybody!” It sounded to Phil like Richard was still furious, still left with his pride injured. He was on the verge of yelling, but kept his voice somewhat hushed. Maybe to avoid drawing even more humiliation to himself tonight.

Your voice was less hushed, a little bolder. “We’ve barely been dating long enough to begin even thinking about marriage, Richard! I told you I wanted to wait!”

Phil carefully peeked into the room just enough to see that the two of you were standing and you had refused to sit on the couch. Richard towered over you, clearly trying to intimidate you. You were trapped between him and the untouched couch. You nervously ran your hand through your hair as Richard continued roughly gripping one of your shoulders with one of his hands. The sight of his hands on you like that made Phil’s skin crawl and stomach lurch. He tried his best to control himself.

“[Y/N],” Richard began again, clearly still annoyed. “You already made a scene with the first proposal. But I’m not giving up on you . And so is your father—”

You scoffed at this and rolled your eyes.

“So, please. Just stop being so stupid and stubborn for a second, and just say yes so we can both move on ”

You stayed quiet. And Phil’s mind was racing in the midst of your silence. Was it possible you were actually considering it? He remembered you when you were younger, as a kid. You were stubborn, yes, and very outspoken. It’s what stopped any kids from picking on you or your art. But you also never betrayed your own goals, your own ideas and feelings, for the sake of someone else’s preferences. Even if that meant getting into ugly fights with others and giving your mom and dad the silent treatment for weeks. It was one of many qualities in you that Phil remembered admiring, and he hoped that it was a quality that had never diminished during these last fifteen years.

Phil didn’t want to admit it, but he also felt sick to the thought of you getting engaged just when he had finally reunited with you. He felt a nauseating feeling in his gut at the idea of you marrying this, clearly, arrogant guy. Phillip Graves himself was arrogant at times—sassy even, but when it came to the people he cared about, he was never arrogant. When it came to you, he could never be arrogant.

Finally, you did answer. “I already said my thoughts on the subject, Richard,” you said firmly. At that moment, you hoped Richard and your father would respect your wishes more than anything. Once again, you felt like nothing more than a pawn. “I already said no to you once. And now I’m saying it twice. Do I have to say it a third time?”

“Well, neither of us are getting any younger, [Y/N]. If you’re as serious about this relationship as I am, then you should at least be considering marriage with me. If not, then what’s the goddamn point of this? Of any of this with you?” He placed both his hands now on your shoulders, shaking you just a little. “What do you even want out of this?”

Your face seemed almost serene. You didn’t frown, nor did you nervously smile or even produce a grimace. You placed your hands on his that were squeezing your shoulders, gently sliding them off of you and placing them back to his sides. “After tonight, Richard. I can’t give you a straight answer. I don’t know. After this scene you tried to pull despite everything I told you, I can’t say I see a future with you anymore.”

Richard leaned away, almost repulsed by your answer. He scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head furiously. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you breaking up with me? ”

Phil would’ve started laughing if he didn’t give away the fact he was spying on you and Richard. But he also wanted to beam with pride at seeing you stand up for yourself despite Richard and your dad not ceasing in urging you two to get married. He was glad to see that you never lost your fiery side as you’ve grown.

“I guess that’s what it is,” you mustered out. “If you can’t stay in a relationship with me without getting married immediately just to make our parents happy, then maybe we just shouldn’t be in a relationship.”

Any shock was replaced with fury. Richard began seething. “You can’t be so goddamn dumb, [Y/N],” he growled out. “Why are you throwing all of this away? We could’ve had a future together, a built home, a nice family. And you’re throwing it all away just because you wanted to make a point about waiting ?!”

You scoffed. “A nice home where you’re calling me an idiot for sticking to my values. Yeah, sure.” You tried to step beside him to walk away, to finally leave this conversation behind and head back to the family that cares about you.

But instead Richard grabbed you by your forearm, whipping you back toward him and forcing you to face him again. His eyes were now no longer narrow with disdain but wide and dilated with rage. It was a look you only saw on rare occasions, mostly when you had screaming matches after you would “ruin the mood” when he’d try to have sex with you, drunk out of his mind, after one of his work parties.

“Let me go,” you muttered, your annoyance desperately trying to mask any fear that could be detected in your voice.

Suddenly, Richard grabbed your face with a hand, squeezing your jaw and cheeks as he did. He forced you to look at him, even while you desperately tried to pull his hand off you, scratching his forearms and trying to push him away. Phil’s heart began racing and he could feel the blood coursing through his body grow hotter. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but all he could focus on was how the solemn look in your eyes was now replaced with one of terror and shining with wet tears beginning to form.

Richard’s fury continued. “I never thought you could be this stupid. Do you even realize what you’re doing to your—”

Phil had enough. He rushed into the room and in what felt like a flash he pushed Richard away from you. You fell onto the couch, watching in horror as Richard tried to fight back against Phil. Sure, Richard was strong and big. But Phil’s hand-to-hand combat had been refined over the years in the Marine Corps. With little struggle, he managed to subdue him, and within seconds, Richard was pinned to the ground. Phil was successful in knocking the air out of Richard, leaving the man breathless and writhing on the floor.

“What the fuck ! Get off me!! ” Richard growled through gritted teeth.

Phil smirked for a split second before ignoring him. He let Richard crumble to the ground before he went over and tentatively kneeled in front of Y/N. He saw once again furious tears pooling in your eyes threatening to fall . He placed a gentle hand on her knee and gazed up at her. “You okay [Y/N] ? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shook your head, your own hand traveling to your jaw where Richard had roughly grabbed you. “No, I’m fine.”

He nodded in understanding, still looking at you carefully. While he watched you, he felt Matty and Elaine rush into the room, confusion written on their faces. They saw your small form still sitting on the couch with Phil crouching in front of you while Richard was still getting up from the ground, catching his breath.

“Th-thanks, Phil,” you said quietly. “I… didn’t know he was gonna lash out like that.”

“ He what ?!” Matty demanded. “Richard, what the hell did you do to my sister?!”

Richard was now back on his feet, he breathed out deeply and glared at Matty. Then he straightened his shirt and painted on his usual smug look of contempt he carried. “I broke up with her. If she’s not taking this relationship seriously, then neither will I.”

“What a load of bullshit,” Matty practically spat the words in Richard's face before grabbing him by his collar. Elaine watched in horror too, scurrying away to the side. Matty dragged him out of the room until both you and Phil lost sight of the two of them. Knowing Matty and his long-lasting hatred for Richard, you were sure he was kicking him out of your parents’ home.

“Dad is going to be furious,” you mumbled to yourself, but Phil could hear you loud and clear.

He took a seat next to you on the couch, deciding not to touch you further. He had to remind himself that you were no longer a 12 year old girl, he had to restrain himself from holding you . Yes, you two were very close when both of you were mere teens . But it had been years since you last spoke. Fifteen years to be exact, he didn’t know if you ever counted the days but he did, for some reason that even he couldn’t explain it to himself. He couldn’t overstep his boundaries. So he just pulled his hands back to his lap and sat there, trying to console you as best as he could.

“He’s not always like that… but when he is it gets too much ” you breathed out. Phil tried to listen but he was also acutely aware of how your hand, albeit sweaty from your nerves, felt on his much rougher, larger one. “Matty never liked him. But mom and dad adored him for some reason.”

Phil sighed out. He wished he could say something comforting, something that would chase all your anxieties and fears away. But all he could do was sit there and listen to nothing and everything all at once . Feeling your heat radiate from your side, and he sits besides you only a hair of a touch away. He could lean in and hold you close, and the thought made his heart flutter with nervousness. From here, he could smell how your hair smelled like roses and coconuts—

Before he could drift further away he had to snap back to reality with you still sitting next to him solemnly. How could he think that about you? You were his best friend’s sister for goodness sake… but was he in the wrong to think of you as the pretty woman that you have become? Yes he considered you as a little sister back in the day, but that was a decade and half ago. But now? His heart told him one thing but his brain said something else.

You always carried your emotions on your sleeves. If you were happy, your face would be brighter than the sun. But then if sad, a cloud would particularly be looming over your head. When you were flustered, your face would be brighter than the fresh tomato that his parents would have the cooks pick up from the farmers market And if you were angry, oh man that was something to witness. That was why he always loved teasing you and making you laugh, to get that reaction and to see those emotions. He admired them. But in your grown-up state, he noticed that trait in you lessened. It was as if you were trained to wear a mask that would hide all your emotions. Even now, watching you sit there waiting for the unknown, you try to mask your emotions, hide them in a box and lock it. And discard the keys somewhere where no one can find it. And it hurt Phill to see you in this state. He couldn’t decide which one was worse; having you go through the trauma of facing your now abusive ex boyfriend, or that you were forced to masquerade your emotions.

“I knew the guy for like half an hour, but… yeah, I can say he seems like a dick.” He pursed his lips, but raised his eyebrows when he heard and felt you start to chuckle. “Pun intended” Phil smirked as he looked at you.

“He reminds me of a guy I met back when I first joined MARSOC,” Phil continued. You tore your teary eyes away from your hands and looked at him, listening intently. “He was big and burly too, but he actually was much more considerate. Hated bullies. Always lending the rest of us a hand if he could see we were struggling.”

You held back a snort. You couldn’t imagine Richard enduring something like Marines training, much less being generous and looking out for others if his skin was on the line. But as a child so many years back, you also couldn’t imagine Phil joining an elite fighting team. Not because he couldn’t work in a team, but because you only saw him as your brother’s best friend who just seemed to play football and video games—not shoot guns and hunt down dangerous men. So, you asked him more. While your mother was off trying to calm your father down, and your brother was getting fresh air to cool down with Elaine, the two of you stayed on the couch. While he did, Bear padded over to both of you, laying down at your feet and surely feeling sleepy already. Phil finally had a chance to reminisce out loud on some of his training days and some missions with the MARSOC Raiders—at least the parts of them he was allowed to tell others about. He even remarked how he had left the Raiders, now working with others to form a new PMC, hence why he was back in Texas.

While you sat listening and while your tears dried, you couldn’t help but feel admiration bloom inside your chest for him. Admiration and… something familiar you still couldn’t put your finger on. Yes, you were thrilled to have him back in your life, someone you might’ve called your best friend as a young girl. You felt some nostalgia, of course. You felt like you were truly back home for the first time, even after visiting home a few times already after moving in with Richard. Still, while he spoke and you listened intently, you couldn’t help but admire how his lips moved when he smirked as he remembered something cheeky he did, or how his brows furrowed tightly and his jaw clenched when a difficult memory flashed for him. Or how he’d sometimes run his hand across the side of his head, his light brown hair getting disheveled for just a few moments without his knowing. It made you smile for a few seconds before returning your focus to his words. But even while you concentrated on him and his stories, you couldn’t ignore the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and the way your palms sweat when you noticed him gazing at you several times.

For a moment, it felt good to disconnect from your world, from the drama and yelling of your parents and Richard. Delving into Phil’s past several years away from your hometown felt like finding an oasis in a harsh, unforgiving desert. Your racing heart that you felt when Richard had glowered down at you in furious disbelief moments ago had diminished, now a comforting lull in your chest as you listened to Phil’s familiar voice. But it was short-lived, and it made you realize, yes, this was just one night, when your parents both walked in.

Your father’s face was less red, but the tired look in his eyes made you know that he was still disappointed. “Your mother and I are heading to bed.” He pursed his lips into a thin line when he looked at you. He had so much he wanted to say to you, so much he wanted to yell too. But your mother next to him nudged him with her elbow and cleared her throat. He shook himself out of his death stare and instead looked at the man beside you. “It was, uh… good to see you, Phillip. Please give your father my regards when you see him. It’s been a while since we’ve emailed each other.”

Phil nodded curtly but said nothing in response. Next to you, he could feel how tense you still were. He didn’t want this conversation to drag on any longer. Without another word, your parents left the living room, finally retiring to their bedroom up upstairs. But replacing your parents’ spot in the living room’s entrance came Matty and Elaine.

Elaine yawned. “How are y’all not tired yet?”

“We’re going to be heading to the guest room in a bit. But by all means, let me know if you need anything. Just knock on our door or give me a call. I’m here.” Matty gave you a reassuring smile.

Phil glanced down at his watch—you remember it as the same rolex that his dad had given him for his sixteenth birthday and that Phil only begrudgingly accepted.

“Jesus, time sure flies. It’s already one in the morning.” He huffed, feigning sleepiness, and looked at you with pursed lips. He placed an earnest hand over his chest. “I’m sorry to have kept you awake so long, [Y/N].”

You shook your head frantically. “No, don’t apologize, Phil. Catching up on what you’ve been up to has meant the world to me.”

Hit with sudden realization, Phil widened his eyes slightly. “[Y/N], do you need a place to sleep tonight?” The thought of you returning to your hotel room with your furious ex-boyfriend made his chest tighten.

You shook your head. “No, I’ll just be sleeping in Matty’s room for the rest of my stay. So I'll be hanging around here for a while.” You honestly weren’t in a rush to return to Seattle immediately, just to have to see Richard glowering at you from every corner of his apartment. He was going to have to find a new roommate quickly.

Your brother wrapped his arm warmly around Elaine, bringing her sleepy body closer to him comfortingly. “See you two around,” he said before turning around and heading up the same stairs your parents had climbed earlier.

Phil got up from the couch, and you followed. You straightened your skirt as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepishly. “Really, I mean it. I hope I didn’t bore the hell out of you, [Y/N].”

The two of you began to walk to the front door, Phil pulling out his car keys from his pockets. “No, Phil. I’m being honest. Just getting to sit and hear you speak for a while has really helped me. I’m—I feel a lot better now. Thanks to you.” You watched as he opened the door but then you realized he also is technically only visiting town. “Wait. Do-do you have a place to stay?”

He paused. He shut the door that he had left slightly ajar before, as he turned to look at you. “Oh, yeah I’m staying back at my parents’ place. They rent out the first floor as an AirBnB sometimes, especially since they mostly spend time with my uncle in St. Augustine in Florida. But they’re letting me stay on the second floor now that I’m back home for a while as I work things out.” He smiled warmly. He couldn’t help but find it endearing how you worried where he was staying as well.

You let out a soft sigh. “Good.” You were relieved to hear not only that he wasn’t staying in some sketchy motel but that it was back in his childhood home, where you and him had spent so much time watching TV and pranking Matty on your weekends off of school.

He leans in slightly. “That’s right,” he said in a low voice. “If you wanna come by tomorrow, we can hang out. I’ll even cook you something.” He smirked.

You felt your heart leap and your face heat up furiously. You prayed that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt. You tried to play it off smoothly. You tried to suppress the huge grin from growing on your lips and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Phil nodded and turned the doorknob again, getting ready to head out. “You better, or I’ll come by and snatch you myself.”

Your heart did backflips again at this. The image of eating dinner with him flashed in your mind, and you felt like your brain was short-circuiting. But you had to say something back, you had to answer without melting down. You desperately kept your composure but let out an airy laugh, one you hoped didn’t give away your nerves. “Goodnight, Phil. I’ll see you later.”

You followed him, stepping outside to your front porch as you watched him heading back to his black sedan parked by the side of the house. You couldn’t help but watch him as he walked with the same confident strides from when he was your childhood crush, his keys jangling in his hands.

As he pressed his car key’s FOB and and his car beeped, unlocking, he turned and glanced at you. He felt breathless as he saw as your hair blew in the cool nighttime breeze. But he didn’t want to give away how he, too, was gazing at you for too long. “Go inside, [Y/N],” he laughed. “You’re gonna catch a cold like that.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Just making sure you’re gonna head out safely, Phil,” you called back, feigning annoyance. He shook his head and chuckled as he stepped into his car, headlights turning on and engine rumbling.

You turned around and headed back inside, closing the front door but quickly scampering to the window to look through the blinds until you saw his car disappear down the road.

Even after chatting with him all night, you still couldn’t believe Phil Graves had somehow returned to your life.

#cod x reader #phillip graves x reader #cod fanfic #phillip graves fanfic #phillip graves x you #phil graves x you #phil graves x reader #graves x reader #Authors Has Played Call of Duty

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myosotisa · 1 year ago

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Old Heart - Part 4 - Build

‖ chapter summary: Following the destruction of Memphis, you and Eddie make your way to the spot where he is set to hand you off for the final leg of your journey to Colorado.

‖ tags: enemies to lovers, age gap (41 and 25), forced proximity, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, HEA, "zombie" apocalypse, reader uses she/her pronouns, no y/n, no physical description given, minors dni

‖ chapter warnings: grief and the tumultuous emotions included. abandonment issues. mentions of untreated terminal illness (cancer). implied/referenced suicide (very implied, not graphic). animal death and using it in a meal. also alcohol.

‖ word count: 11k

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August 18th through 23rd, 2016 – somewhere in Arkansas

You only make the mistake of asking Eddie to talk about Memphis twice.

The first time was Thursday night after the two of you had settled into a place to sleep that seemed secure enough for both of you to sleep through the night. He’d assisted you with changing the bandages on your wound with the supplies him and Max had managed to scrape together while you had been catatonic. It was vague – more of an offer that if he wanted to talk to you about it, you were there for him. He’d bitten back with a harsh retort that there was nothing to talk about before rolling over and pretending to go to sleep.

Progress had been slow as you trekked across the state together due to your injury. You felt tired faster, found yourself pushing to keep going until you got so dizzy you almost fell over, then had to take a rest before you did the same thing all over again. Eddie never once complained about the pace but you could tell the sitting and waiting for you to be ready to move again was weighing on him. He would anxiously pace while you sat, or make an excuse about going to make sure the perimeter was clear and disappearing for 15 minutes at a time. The first leg of your trip he was standoffish and closed off but, ever since Max left, he’s been fully avoidant. Not wanting to get into situations where he would have time to stop and think.

Running away from silence and stillness like he had a bounty on his head.

When you ask again if he wants to talk about anything that happened in Memphis, he doesn’t snap. He barely responds at all. He sits there in the moonlight with one leg kicked out and the other bent up with his arms crossed on it. There’s a far off look in his eye despite his gaze being firmly settled on his boot. Dark shadows are cast along his features that make the circles under his eyes seem more sunken and his jawline more defined. A shadow of himself in the dark.

“Who’s Sally?”

The question catches you off guard, your legs crossing under you as you lean back against a dusty bookshelf in the dark room. “Sorry?”

“When we were leaving Louisville, you told–” His voice is soft and ragged – it catches on the word and he has to clear his throat to keep going. “You told Dustin to ‘get home safe to Sally.’ I didn’t know he was seeing anyone.”

You’re not able to contain the amused snort that forces itself out of your nose and you notice that the silhouette of his head whips toward you in response. Quick to explain, you tell him, “Sally is a German Shepherd. She lives on the farm with Dustin and Will.”

“Ah,” is his short response. You think maybe that will be the end of it but a few moments later he’s talking again. “His mom was a cat lady. He liked the cats, but I always kinda got the feeling he was a dog person. So that’s, uh… That’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with her. Talked about her almost as much as you on the trip there.”

This makes him huff, a quick exhale of breath. You wish you could see his face – figure out if that was a good noise or a bad one. For not the first time, you find yourself wishing you knew what he was thinking.

“I had a cat for a little while.”

His confession has you suddenly on the edge of your seat and you struggle to rein yourself in. Try not to think about how excited it makes you to hear him let a little fact about himself like that slip free. Carefully, keeping your tone neutral like you’re trying not to spook a wild animal, you ask, “Oh yeah? What was their name?”

You’re surprised when he actually answers. “My uncle named her Mimzy. Stupid fuckin’ name,” he complains, though it comes out through a chuckle. “Then again, the cat was dumb as a brick so I guess the punishment fit the crime.” You spend a few moments considering if you should ask more questions to try to keep him talking but he does so on his own. “She lived under our trailer when I was in high school. Was just fur and bone when I started throwing scraps outside for her to eat. ‘Course she stuck around after that. Even though I was the one who started feeding her, she always preferred Wayne. Would rub all over his legs when he got back from the plant in the morning after ignoring me all night. Though she was a fan of mine for a while when I saved her dumbass while trying to fight a raccoon.”

Still not quite sure how to handle this situation in which Eddie is willingly talking about himself, you fall back on humor. “Trying to fight a raccoon is a rookie mistake. They have fully functioning fingers. A cat stands no chance.”

This time the huff he lets out is definitely amused and you find yourself warming under the approval. “I’m just glad she didn’t get rabies or something from the thing.”

While it feels a bit like pushing your luck, you take another metaphorical step closer by offering up some bits of your own. “We had a dog when I was a kid. Yappy little terrier named Lola.” He doesn’t move to interrupt you so you push your luck a little further. “I was always more of a cat person but my dad fucking hated them for some reason, so I was never allowed to have one.”

“Didn’t get one when you had the chance?” He asks, and it makes you hesitate.

Not sure if he forgot how young you were or if he meant something else, you are reluctant to remind him. Despite the worry that it's the wrong move, you still awkwardly answer. “Well, I was only 13 when everything went to shit. And they didn’t want animals on the base so… No.”

Silence falls like a blanket of thick snow. It feels fuzzy and heavy. You immediately try to figure out how you can reel the words back into your mouth, say literally anything else that would keep him talking. Keep the silence from creeping in like hands around your throat.

“I forgot,” he’s borderline whispering now and you can barely hear it over the buzzing in your ears. “Can’t imagine how fucked up it was to go through that as a kid.”

You shrug even though he can’t see it, feeling that captive piece of you starting to pace behind its bars again, looking for the first sign of weakness to lunge. “About as fucked as it was for everyone else, I guess.”

“Yeah… Guess so.” The moment sits heavy on you both before the sound of leather on polyester hisses in the empty air. There’s a lot of shuffling from his side of the room and you see the shadows of him settling down on his sleeping bag. You take that as your sign that he’s done talking.

A small part of you thinks about telling him goodnight. You decide to stop while you’re ahead.

The next 3 nights go similarly. When you’ve both found some abandoned place to sleep, he helps you change your bandages. Looks out for signs of it getting infected and lets you know if it seems to be healing or not. When your cobbled together sling gives out, he rips apart his white overshirt to make you a new one despite your protests that you can manage without. Once your arm is settled and you’ve both eaten at least a little bit of something, you start talking. Not much, maybe 15 minutes to half an hour. But those sacred minutes allow you to learn more little facts about Eddie. Never anything related to Memphis or life during the pandemic. It’s all things from before.

He had the same flannel shirt in 3 different colors because he just really liked how it looked on him. A part of him always wanted to get into fixing up motorcycles in his free time. He also used to enjoy drawing and playing fantasy games with his friends. He learned to play guitar when he was a kid from an old 6 string that his uncle had but never used. 90% of his tattoos were from before, only two being added to the mix over the last 13 years. Not for lack of wanting – more like lack of resources and not trusting those who had set up “shops” these days to do stick and pokes. On that note, his first two tattoos were stick and pokes he did himself in high school.

You drank all the information like sugar water for a fly – desperate to be filled even if it wasn’t the way you were hoping it would be. Even if it didn’t end anywhere, even if it didn’t help either of you. It was something.

In a world where everything felt like a luxury, vulnerability was the rarest among them.

Evening of August 23rd, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The last hour or so of your hike through the middle of nowhere has been dirt roads and wooden fences that barely remain standing on the dusty roadsides. While you have questioned him once or twice, Eddie is determined that he knows exactly where he’s going. That he’s made this trip before, could do it blindfolded. And, with the sun quickly sinking toward the western horizon, all you can do is hope he’s right.

As you kick your way through orange dirt roads covered with rocks and tree limbs, the ruined fencing to your right starts to slowly be replaced with newer wood – better maintained and more sturdy. Further beyond, the wooden beams are replaced by a chain link fence that rises a foot or two above your head. This looks even newer, barely rusted and without any cuts or weak points. Despite being far from anything you would even attempt to call civilization, it seems that you are getting closer to something someone is caring for.

You don’t realize that you’re lagging behind, distracted and exhausted, until Eddie looks back over his shoulder. “We’re almost there, Bambi. Just a little farther.”

Not sure if he means to be encouraging or condescending, you decide to take the opportunity to talk again. Maybe if you can focus on that instead of your sore muscles and swollen arm, you can pass the rest of the time easily. “Y’know, calling me Bambi is kind of fucked up.”

He stops, slowly turning toward you with concern and confusion on his brow. He waits for you to catch up before continuing on with you in step. “How exactly is it fucked up?”

“Y’know, because both of my parents are dead now.”

He chokes on air, a hacking laugh forcing itself out of his throat. His eyes are shining with a certain mischief in them, one you haven’t seen since Memphis. “First of all, that’s so fucking dark, Bambi.” You blink at him a few times, not understanding exactly what he means. He continues on, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Second of all, I don’t know if you noticed, but a lot of people’s parents are dead.”

You scoff, shaking your head and looking back out to the road as you murmur, “Asshole.”

“Third of all,” he continues, ignoring your retort, “I’m pretty sure we started calling you Bambi because you’re going out into the world for the first time on your shaky legs; eyes wide and unsure. Not because your parents are dead.”

The realization hits you harshly, suddenly embarrassed for your own morbid assumption. “Oh,” is all you muster, teeth clenching as you try to shake off the fumble. “I am not on shaky legs. I’ve been in the world this whole time, same as everyone.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think your tall ivory walls of government protection count as ‘out in the world’.” He goads, almost sounding pleased with himself. Either not at all catching on to how the assertion frustrates you, or not caring that it does. “We didn’t all get our 3 square meals a day or access to clean water whenever we wanted it.”

The boil in your blood mounts higher – hotter than it’s ever been in his direction. While at the beginning of your journey, you’d been annoyed with his attitude toward you, this is entirely different. This is him taking a knife to where it hurts and twisting it just to watch you bleed. White hot blood you’re quick to spit back.

Your tone is barely contained fire and steam when you say a resolute, “Fuck. You.”

He looks almost like he wants to laugh until he glances in your direction and sees the look on your face. Subconsciously, he shifts another inch away from you, swallowing harshly as he stuffs his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. “Sore spot. Got it.”

The acknowledgement that his comments hurt you does little to smother the flames clawing up your throat, but you leash your tongue and use them to propel you forward instead. Settling into a tense silence that could last 5 minutes or an hour. It’s hard to tell with the rate the sun continues to sink down onto the horizon and the grasslands surrounding you remain unchanging.

Luckily, the fuming is interrupted by Eddie using his long legs to his advantage and crossing over in front of you to grasp at what you’ve just noticed is a gate in the chain link fence. He fights with the chain wrapping the gate closed for a few moments before he manages to prop it open far enough for you both to squeeze through. You pass first, crossing from a dirt road to what can only be described as worn down tire tracks in the grass. It arcs forward and toward the left, disappearing behind a small grove of trees.

“Is this it?” You ask over your shoulder, glancing back as Eddie once again wrangles the thick chain back into place. “Three Corners?”

“Yup, just up the drive.” He exhales a huff as soon as the chain is back in place. Looking at you with an emotion behind his eyes that you can’t determine, he clears his throat and sets into following the path again. “End of the road. For me, at least.”

The startling realization that this is the end of your journey with Eddie hits you unexpectedly. Twists your gut in a way it didn’t when the handoff happened with Dustin. That you had always known was temporary, a means to an end. Just like this was supposed to be.

When had you lost grasp on that?

Oblivious to your internal struggle, Eddie treks ahead, the call of a place to rest and get clean too enticing to let wait any longer. He’s already disappeared around the bend of the trees before you even catch sight of the property.

First, there’s a light blue walled barn, looking only a little bit worse for wear. More like seasoned in the Oklahoma winds. Two of its off-white, rolling doors are shut, the third opened to a room lined with what looks like workbenches – but it’s hard to tell exactly what in the growing shadows of dusk.

Second, you spot a house. One story, laid out wide rather than tall, and organized with mismatched windows and shutters. The walls are painted the same sky blue as the barn, with white trim and a beige slatted roof that is missing more than a few shingles. The roof extends over a small porch, just big enough to fit the door and 2 rocking chairs, and ends in a copper rooster that slowly rotates back and forth in the light wind.

The front door is wide open, presumably from Eddie, and shows only shadows of what is happening on the inside. You hover there in the open space in front of the house, not sure what to do, until you hear Eddie’s voice calling out.

“Hey! Anyone home?” He barely pauses before continuing, his voice getting closer as he goes. “Jeff? … Ama? … Anyone?”

He reappears from the shadows of the house, crossing back through the threshold with a sharp crease of concern between his eyebrows and his mouth set in a thin line. “Hey, you out here?” He continues, long legs carrying him to the barn next, where he once again disappears into the shadows you’re not yet brave enough to venture into. “Jeff? Ahuli?”

The sound of a creaky metal hinge rings out toward you in the open space, echoing out into the quickly darkening sky. Determining your hesitancy in this unknown space is less important than your desire to sit down, you suffer the last few steps to one of the rocking chairs on the porch, tossing your pack to the ground before throwing yourself onto the seat, almost falling backwards with the force of your exhaustion.

Eddie comes back out into the open, hands on his hips as he makes a slow circle to search around the area within view. Leaning forward on your elbows to contain the sudden urge to melt into the ground, you tilt your chin up toward him as he stops to face you. “Looks like no one's home.”

“Yeah, which…” He takes a few steps closer, dust coated face still wrinkled in concern. “They knew we were coming, maybe not this soon but… I don’t know where they would even go.”

“Maybe they left a note or something,” you suggest, wanting just a few minutes to sit and not worry about what was going to happen next. Wanting a few minutes to just rest. “Could look around the house or – maybe they said something to someone over the radio?”

His expression drops from worry to something that looks a bit like despair when he turns back toward the open workshop door. “I should… Let them know we’re here. Tell them what happened.”

But he doesn’t move an inch. Just stares at the steadily growing shadows of the empty barn. Like if he doesn’t go over there, he won’t have to say it. Won’t have to relive it and remember it.

This is something you can’t run from.

You push yourself to your feet, almost numb at this point of exhaustion, and walk past him toward the barn. Without looking back, you hear him get moving behind you, following you as you approach the structure and cross the threshold. Straw softens your step over concrete floors, making your footfall near silent as you venture further into the darkness.

Try to ignore the fear, shake off the urge to reach for your gun or your flashlight. You’re safe here, you’re safe here, you’re safe here–

A short sound comes from behind you and then the room is bathed in harsh white light, nearly blinding in its sudden appearance. You squeeze your eyes shut for a few moments before slowly blinking them back open.

Two of the walls of the room are fully lined with wooden table tops, drawers and random scraps littering the spaces beneath. It looks almost like some kind of machine workshop – drills, hammers, pliers, wiring, and more scattered across the wood between tools and small machines. Most of it you couldn’t even hope to recognize, but as you slowly turn to scan more of the space, you see Eddie approaching what definitely looks like a radio receiver. There are wires all over, some disappearing behind the workbench it sits on and others loosely arching toward the ceiling and through a cutout. Homemade antenna?

He flicks it to life with ease, a burst of static echoing out along the space before settling into a stable hum of sound. Lowering into a crouch, he has to get pretty close to the dial as he adjusts the frequency, like he can’t see the numbers well. You’re about to offer to help him when he drops his hand and straightens up with a groan.

It tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Careful old man, or you’ll throw your back out.”

Bracing for him to lash back with something mean, you’re surprised when he snorts a laugh out of his nose, shaking his head lightly before throwing a glance back at you and saying, “Bite me.”

And maybe it’s the smirk on his face, or your exhaustion, or your life falling to pieces around you, but you somehow decide that the way you want to reply to that is, “When and where?”

This time he fully looks at you, eyebrows raised in utter surprise, his smile growing and shifting sideways as your face heats in embarrassment. “Yeah, Bambi?”

“Shut up,” you mutter to his teasing, dragging a tall stool across the straw floor to sit beside him. He is still looking at you, a sharp glint to his eye that makes you feel like a mouse being cornered by a cat. “Just radio in,” you try to order, but it comes out more like a plea.

“Whatever you say,” he concedes with a sly smile, pulling the receiver up to his mouth and pressing down on the button. The static hum cuts out as he says, “Hawk’s Nest, come in. I repeat, Hawk’s Nest, come in.”

The moment he lifts his finger, the static cuts back in. Neither of you move, almost not even breathing, as you wait for a response. Eddie, showing more impatience than you, tries again. “Hawk’s Nest, this is Crow, do you read me?”

When he releases the switch again, you dip slightly forward to look at his profile. “Crow? You have call signs?”

He groans, eyes rolling back into his head. “Yeah, and it’s all bird-themed shit. Blame your fucking sister.”

“Ah, Robin, figures.”

“Pain in my ass,” he reaffirms, but the small smile that remains on his face betrays him. He lifts the receiver again like he’s about to repeat when the static crackles a few times – waving between a very high and low pitch before a static tinted voice cuts in.

“Crow, this is Hawk’s Nest. Read you loud and clear.”

“Thank Christ,” he sighs out before pressing down the switch again. “Crow reporting package arrival at drop 3.”

Annoyance prickles at the base of your skull again, ready to snark back about not being a fucking package but the voice you still don’t recognize cuts back in. “Package arrival heard, will relay.”

He barely waits a second before jumping in again. “Drop 3 handoff incomplete, receiver not present. Any report?”

It all sounds so incredibly vague and short form – like if you didn’t know exactly what was going on you wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of any of it. That’s probably the point actually, that anyone listening in would have almost no idea what they were talking about.

There’s some additional crackling, a longer pause before the voice cuts back in. “Nothing noted. Standby at drop 3, will report back at 1500 hours tomorrow.”

“Heard,” he confirms and releases the switch. You wonder if he’ll leave it there, not mention anything about Memphis or Max or any of it. It’s almost like he’s tempted to, because he looks over at you with a hard tension in his jaw. You’re not sure why, if there is something he wants you to say or do. If there is some kind of encouragement you could give him, some comfort you could provide.

Nothing feels right to say. So instead you heave a deep breath, wounded arm protesting as your chest expands, and exhale long. Whether consciously or not, Eddie mimics the motion, shoulders rising and falling as he exhales out through his mouth and then presses down on the switch again. “Hawk’s Nest, additional intel for the line.”

A few seconds of hum before the voice replies, “Ready for the line.”

From your point of view, you can see Eddie rest his free hand on the table top, head falling forward as his eyes squeeze closed. His lips twist in a grimace, head rocking back and forth a few times, before he brings the receiver back up to his mouth.

“Memphis QZ is gone. I repeat, Memphis QZ is gone.”

This time you do hold your breath while you wait – heart pounding in your ears loud enough to drown out the static hum as you stare into the black coated machine. The silence stretches on way too long, the longest pause you’ve heard since the conversation began. You almost have to inhale just to keep from passing out, lungs groaning in protest, before the two of you hear a reply.

“Heard, will relay. Status on Flycatcher?”

A sigh out of his nose before he replies. “Headed your way, arrival unknown.”

Another, shorter pause. “Heard, will relay. Standby for 1500 report. Over and out.”

He sets the receiver down with a heavy hand, raises the other to flick the radio back off. Both hands on the table again, he exhales shakily as he hangs his head.

You don’t move or say a word until he does. Allowing him that moment to collect himself, if nothing else.

Slowly, he rolls his shoulders back to his full height, posture squaring off as he takes a step back from the table.

“Come on,” he requests softly, “let’s go clean up, change your bandages. Get something to eat.”

You follow him out of the barn, light flicking off behind you, across the red tinted dirt circle between the barn and the house, and into the shadows within.

August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

Last night, Eddie showed you around a bit. They had an outdoor shower with a water heater, a working toilet and sinks, a small fridge, a wood stove. Electricity and hot water. And beds. Both of you would be able to get your own bed.

You’d awkwardly turned down his assistance on getting clean, insisting you’d be really careful with your arm. He let you go first – when you re-emerged from the wooden enclosure of the shower, there was a little bundle of clean clothes waiting for you. By the time you got inside, there was a small (but warm) meal prepared. He was already halfway done with his, and when he finished, he insisted on changing your bandages again despite your reassurance you could do it.

After making sure you were clean, bandaged, and fed, he told you where you could find a bed and went out to take his own shower. You washed the dishes as well as you could with one fully functioning hand and tucked yourself into bed before he even came back inside.

This domesticity felt unnerving. His care felt unnatural. It was different from the apartment in Memphis. This was the home of a family of four, with kids toys and art and pictures and everything. And, despite it only being the two of you, Eddie watching out for you, taking care of you, putting you first… It was overwhelming and uncomfortable and felt unsafe.

Somehow, laying alone in the dark child’s room, in clothes that weren’t yours and in the silence. It was worse than anything.

You couldn’t fall asleep until you heard Eddie come back inside and close the door to the room beside you.

When you wake up, there’s sunlight coming in through the opaque curtains, a soft yellow cast across the homemade quilt you had pulled up to your ears. As you slowly shift it down to your waist, dust starts to kick up and dance along the beams into the room. Making the blues and greens of the bedding and the child-drawn artwork look almost pastel. And while part of it was comforting, imagining a kid who still got to have a room like this – live a life like this �� there were a lot of other feelings that came up. Feelings you weren’t ready to face this early in the morning.

Instead, you get up and get dressed to go find some water.

Your door is barely open an inch before you hear something going on in the kitchen, the scrap of wood against metal and the clink of a glass. Not sure if maybe the homeowners had returned while you were out, and you were now about to meet them, you walk as quietly as you can to the end of the hallway that leads to the rest of the house.

The only person you can see is Eddie with his back to you.

He’s standing in front of the wood stove in a tank top and sweatpants, bare feet on the uneven tile flooring, long hair down and haphazardly placed on either side of his shoulders. The scars along his arms are on show, allowing you a better glance as you slowly approach from behind. His right arm isn’t too bad, a vague slash mark here or there, along with a couple of black ink tattoos scattered across the skin. There’s a healed over bullet graze at the top of his right bicep, the skin indented and slightly puckered pink. Probably somewhat similar to how your own arm will heal.

His left has larger patches of scar tissue, a big section on his forearm and a few other spots as it goes up his arm. They almost look like burn scars – the skin damaged and discolored but healed over. It’s the same texture of the scar on his side you saw last week, also on the left. He must’ve been in some kind of accident with flames or maybe some kind of chemical.

You wonder if he’d tell you what it was if you asked.

The closer you get, you can see there’s some small bowls on the counter beside him and one of them is stacked high with brown spotted eggs. He has a cast iron pan over the crackling fire and scraping at the yellow liquid inside it to scramble them.

Without otherwise announcing yourself, you ask him, “Are these fresh eggs?”

He nearly screams, wooden spatula going flying and almost losing the pan too as he jumps away from you. “Jesus Christ, Bambi,” he gasps, running a hand through his hair before dropping it on his heaving sternum, “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

“No,” but your mischievous smile heavily implies you’re not exactly upset about the outcome. “Where’d you get the eggs?”

He glares at you while shuffling back to the front of the stove. He still sounds a little out of breath when he replies, “Ama has a henhouse out back, takes care of them. Tries to keep them out of the garden.” He points toward another wooden bowl that has 2 small pears, some leaves of lettuce, and a single shoot of green onion.

“Holy shit.” The fresh, home grown food nearly brings tears to your eyes – brushing past his back to take one of the small, green pears and hold it up in the sunlight to examine it. “I mean the food, the animals, the water, the electricity… How do they keep it all going out here?”

“The reservation was already making attempts to be self-sustainable before the pandemic hit. Their own power grid, water collection, the works.” He continues to cook while he explains, scraping the bottom of the cast iron to keep the eggs from sticking as he watches it carefully. “After everything went to shit, they fast tracked it. Jeff and Ama were living in the city and moved back to her parents' place to help them. Her folks died a couple years ago so then it was just them and their two kids. Jeff is a mechanical engineer and Ama is a fuckin’ genius in general so they made this into the best compound someone could ask for in an apocalypse.”

Looking over the house, you couldn’t help but agree. The stable fencing, communication, their own food and water. Depending on how they sourced the power, they could probably stay out here for who knows how long and the only thing they might need to worry about is bandits. Even then, there’s not much around. A bandit group would have to be really lost to end up here.

“That’s… amazing. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to still be living like this. Anywhere.”

But then again, I thought that about Memphis too.

He hums an agreement as he scrapes the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates. “Yeah. I know they are still in touch with other families around. Maybe they are out helping one of them with something.” He nudges his elbow against your arm, pointing for you to grab the other bowl of greens and bring it over to the table with him. “There was a ton of feed in the henhouse, like they prepped to be gone for a little while.”

You follow his lead in setting the bowls on the circular table in the center of the room before taking a seat to his right. “Well that’s a good sign, isn’t it? That they were prepared to not be here?”

He hums as he settles into his chair, the wood groaning as he leans too far back in it. “I guess so. I just hope Will has something to tell us at noon.”

Laying out a piece of lettuce, he makes a sort of egg wrap with bits of green onion before taking a bite right out of his pear. “So Hawk’s Nest, that’s Will? He mans the radios out on the farm with Dustin?”

“Mhmm,” he confirms as he finishes chewing, eyes locked on his plate like he doesn’t know where to go next. “With Sally, apparently.”

Long fingers wrap around his wrap and bring it up to his mouth with a crunch, so you pick up a fork and start to spear into your own warm eggs. Unseasoned but still warm and fresh. A hundred times better than the powdered egg stuff they made back at Quantico. Even just having a warm meal settles you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, relaxing further into your seat as your eyes close.

When you open them again, you’re struck by the sight of Eddie. The sun coasts in through an uncurtained window – bathing him and the table in bright morning light. His slightly frizzy hair, greys visible, is pulled to one side, showing off the length of his neck and the broadness of his shoulders. The scruff along his jaw has only gotten thicker, salt and pepper across weathered skin, almost enough to hide the scar on his chin. There’s a tattoo of a dragon along his bicep, a slashed scar of white right through its abdomen, and a swarm of bats on his forearm. His hands are clean, maybe cleaner than you’ve ever seen them and you find yourself thinking that he looks good like this.

This is a different person from the Eddie you first met. The wolf in denim and leather who is intimidating, unapproachable, someone you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with. With the sharp glares beneath aviators and sharper remarks against anything you had to say. This is a man who has seen terrible things – done terrible things – and now gets to rest. A safe place where he can just live. Not be constantly fighting to survive.

If only he would sit around long enough to enjoy it.

The two of you finish your breakfast and clean up the dishes. Eddie roots through closets and cupboards until he finds a jacket that will fit you (since they tore yours apart to make a sling), a corduroy coat in a forest green that probably wouldn’t stand up well in the elements but keeps you warm nonetheless. He helps you slide it up one arm and hang it over your other shoulder. Your arm is still in your makeshift sling at his request, insisting it would be better to take it off in another day or two.

After that, he explains he’s going to go check the trap line Jeff normally has set up, see if there is anything caught so the two of you might be able to eat some fresh meat tonight. You offer to go with him, to try to help, but he’s quick to deny.

While he says something about your arm and wanting you to rest since it’s still healing, you get the feeling he just wants to be alone for a while. So you watch him re-emerge from one of the bedrooms down the hall in his jeans, boots, red and black tie dye shirt, and his leather jacket before walking out the door with a promise to be back before 3pm for Will’s call.

Leaving you to your own devices.

At first you snoop around the house, trying to bide time. Walk the walls like an art gallery – seeing old and faded photos of families, women in calico tear dresses and men in their ribbon shirts. Newer photos of people gathered in churches, an older man and his three kids all climbing on a pasture gate.

Closer to the fridge, there is a set of three polaroid photos. The top is a family of four sitting on the porch of this house, a man and a woman sitting on the steps with a boy and a girl posing between them. The boy is older, looks almost 7, and the girl looks about 5, with his black pigtail braids draped over her shoulders. The other two are each centered on one of the kids; a shot of the boy with a stripe of grease on his cheek and holding some kind of contraption in his palms with a huge smile, the name ‘Ahuli’ written in cursive underneath, and a shot of the girl sitting on top of the father’s shoulders, her hair wild and windswept as she appears to scream out with laughter, the name ‘Tay’ written in cursive beneath.

This must be Jeff, Ama, and their kids. All living out here on this land. These were kids born after everything fell apart. A family created in utter tragedy. There’s something bittersweet about it all. These kids… This is the only world they know. A world ravaged by man eating man and fungus that takes over your body, pilots your muscles and tendons, and leaves you aware. Cities were destroyed and millions of people died and society collapsed. They don’t even really know it. They’ve probably been told, at least some of it. But they don’t have any idea of what it was before – don’t have anything to miss. This is what they have, have always had. A safe home with a happy family.

The chained creature roars in agony, jaws snapping at the bars like it will tear free and take out its anger on them, on their happiness. Roars for you to grab the polaroids and tear them to pieces, to destroy, to light fire to it all. Burn it to the ground.

You go for a walk.

Slip on your boots with some difficulty and just start walking. Past the outdoor shower, the light clucking of the henhouse behind, and out into the grass beyond. Going until you reach the edge of the fence line and then follow along it, looking out for anything that catches the eye. There are a few horses grazing on the property, a single cow with its calf in the acres beyond the fence. Birds flit by overhead and the drying grass shifts as small creatures scurry far away from you.

You’re not sure how long you walk but the sun beats down, along your shoulders and a sweat breaks out. The breeze keeps you from being miserable but you’re still definitely getting sunburnt along your cheekbones. You’d think after days and days of walking, you’d want to do anything but that. But this feels different. It’s peaceful and relaxing. You’re not on edge, listening to every sound and searching for any sign that something or someone is coming after you. Somehow, your body has gotten the message that you are safe (for the most part) within this chain link fence, allowing some portion of your guard down. So you walk and listen to the birds without constantly looking over your shoulder.

Somewhere toward the back acreage, you intercept Eddie on his way back to the house with a string connecting two dead animals hung over his shoulder. He looks surprised to see you but gives an awkward little wave, waiting along the fence until you get there. “Dinner?” You ask, free hand stuck in the pocket of your coat as you look over the furry animals hanging from him, one on his front and one on his back.

“Dinner,” he confirms with a small smile, adjusting the line holding the animals together before you set off back toward the house together. “I can skin ‘em easy enough, and make sure they’re cooked through, but can’t guarantee it’ll taste very good.”

“If you skin them, I can cook them. While I was snooping around the house, I found some bone broth and other stuff. Should be able to make something edible at least.”

His head tilts toward you, eyebrows raised slightly. “You know how to cook?”

“Yup,” you keep your eyes forward, across the waving prairie grass and toward the outcropping of trees that hides the house and barn. “My mom taught me. She used to work in the mess hall on the base.”

He audibly swallows beside you, a nervous pause before he asks, “When, uh… How long ago did she… pass?”

“Eight years, I think. 2008ish. I think it was summer.” Your voice remains surprisingly steady as you explain. “I still don’t even really know what happened. My dad just came home one day and told me she was gone. I was 17, old enough to be more aware of stuff, but it still felt like he was protecting me from something.” You kick at a stone that caught the tip of your toe in the tall grass, eyes on your dusty boots. “Guess now I’ll never know.”

You cross another 15 feet or so before he replies. “One of the shittier parts of keeping secrets. Once you’re gone, they’re gone too.”

You huff a small laugh, gazing ahead at the trees as you continue to inch closer. “He says as a man overflowing with secrets.”

“There’s a difference between not knowing someone and being ‘filled with’ secrets,” he points out, almost defensively.

“Oh yeah,” you roll your eyes, “because you’re an open book.”

He quiets down again, the silence growing more tense than before. When you finally glance over, you see him looking straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw rolling with tension. Despite your desire to say something else and lessen the sudden distance between you, you decide to let him sit in that. Stew in it even. Like maybe if you reflect that mirror right back at him, he’ll see something.

Maybe something will change for him. Even if you’re not going to be around to see it.

The rest of the walk is quiet as you pass back through the treeline. You follow Eddie into the barn, where he disappears through a door into the other half before reappearing sans animal carcases. The two of you settle in front of the radio again.

Will comes through at 3pm sharp with almost no news. No reply from Colorado about Memphis. No news about Jeff. The only thing he is able to tell you is that he will have more for you at 1300 tomorrow and he lets you know Max arrived at the farm early this morning, unharmed. It’s all in code, but you’re able to get the gist of it. When the radio clicks off, Eddie’s frustration boils over. He kicks hard at a metal can sitting on the ground, the side caving in before it goes sailing out the open door and bounces across the dirt drive of the house. You watch it roll to a stop before looking over at him, one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth as he stares at the object, the sun reflecting off the coating in a glare.

“I’m gonna go skin the animals.”

The door slams shut behind him.

You stare at the closed door for a few minutes before getting off the stool and heading back inside the house.

When you wake up on the couch a few hours later, the sun is even further toward the west. The light no longer shines into the windows of the front room, leaving it much darker than it had been when you and Eddie ate breakfast this morning. Rolling up to sit, you stretch overhead with one arm and a yawn before glaring down at the sling keeping your other arm captive. You’re well past tired of the limitation now and slip it over your head, tossing the fabric to the other end of the couch.

Extending your arm, there’s still some pain and discomfort, but as long as you don’t bring your arms above your head or lift too heavy with your bad arm, you’ll be fine without the sling. It is well past time you were able to use both hands again.

The heavy glance from Eddie when he slips back inside implies he disagrees, but it seems not enough to say anything.

Heavy footfall breaks up the silence until aluminum hits tile. “They’re cleaned. Are you still willing to cook?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Padding across the room in your socks, you step right up next to him to peer into the container. Trying to ignore the way he shifts his shoulder back to make room for you at the counter. Tilting your head toward him, you’re closer than you thought when you add, “Thank you for doing that.”

He looks surprised by the proximity too – brown eyes even just a little bit wider as he scans your face. You can see the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down in a hard swallow. The words sound a bit caught in his throat when he replies, “Sure, no problem.”

Although he looks nervous, maybe even uncomfortable, with how close the two of you are standing, he still makes no effort to move away. Neither do you, although you do lower your face to look over the meat before you in an attempt to ease some of the tension.

If you didn’t know any better, the warmth to your side makes you think he drifted even closer when you stopped looking.

Softly, entirely too intimate compared to the standoffish man who slammed the door behind him mere hours ago, he asks, “Do you want help cooking? Or can I go take a shower before we eat?”

“Go shower.” He doesn’t move an inch. “Oh, actually,” you twist and your noses almost knock together, causing both of you to jerk back in shock. What in the hell is happening right now?

“Could you…” Your voice is unsteady, a bit breathless. “Would you light the stove before you go? I’ve never used one like this before.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a small smile before he drops down to his knees right there beside you. Steady hands reach in toward the wood burning stove as you avert your eyes, shifting out of his space and over toward the cabinets you scoped out earlier. Overwhelmed by his quick change in attitude, you busy yourself in preparation until he pushes himself up with a groan.

Seeking some normalcy, you sigh louder than necessary. “Sorry, shouldn’t have asked you to do that. Old knees and all.”

He huffs a laugh, hair shifting while he shakes his head in your periphery. “Careful, Bambi, or I’ll have to give you a taste of what these knees can do.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can contain it, turning toward him again. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

His eyes narrow playfully, a hand raising in an accusatory point. “Better hope you never find out.” Raising your hands in surrender, you turn back to the counter before he offers one more, “Anything else before I go?”

“Nope, all good here. Thanks.”

He dips his head in acknowledgment before leaving you to your cooking.

As the door clicks shut behind him, you find yourself wondering which Eddie will he be when he gets back.

Evening of August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The chirp of crickets is nearly deafening out on the dusty porch now that the sun has sunk below the horizon. It echoes through the circular clearing of the drive – ricocheting off of thick foliage and the aluminum siding of the barn in a chorus of hissing. A cacophony of noise that drowns out everything but the creak of the rocking chair while it slowly shifts beneath you.

A knit blanket, softened with age, is draped across your lap, frayed edges rolling between your fingertips as you look out over the darkening landscape. The wind has softened from earlier today, meaning you don’t really need the blanket to combat the cold itself. But there’s something about curling up on the porch with a blanket that feels so… Novelty. Comforting.

Another thing you never thought you’d be able to do again.

Dinner with Eddie had been… Strange. He wasn’t quite the tease from when he brought back in the meat, but also wasn’t the grump you left in the barn. Somewhere in between – or maybe something else entirely.

His mood appeared to be wildly shifting by the hour and left you feeling unsure in how to act. While dinner itself had gone relatively easily, you couldn’t help being uneasy by what the next shift might bring.

After eating, he’d insisted on cleaning up. You didn’t fight him on it and made yourself scarce. Found your current blanket, bundled it up into your arms to keep it from dragging across the ground, and made your way to your current spot in the rapidly darkening dusk air. Taking a little while to breathe in fresh air and do your best to reach some sort of relaxed state.

You don’t get anywhere close before the metal hinge of the door behind you creaks open to announce your companion’s arrival.

“I come bearing gifts.”

A cool, glass bottle of liquid is set in your lap – two long fingers releasing either side of the neck before retreating out of view again. Twisting it toward you, you recognize the label of the familiar liquor.

“Where did you get this?”

Eddie drops into the rocking chair beside you with a sigh while he sets a flickering candle on the floor between you both before moving to untwist the top off his own bottle. “A lady does not reveal her secrets,” he murmurs before lifting the bottle to his lips and taking three long swigs. He hisses in through his teeth as it lowers, face contorting in a sort of pleasured pain before falling slack. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Curious if the label is true to the contents, you’re quick to follow - popping the top and bringing the cool glass mouth up to your lips in a more cautious sip than Eddie’s gulps. Sure enough, the liquor is strong and sharp as the burn invades your mouth before sliding down your throat. You groan slightly, not sure if it’s a good thing or not, as you lower the bottle again.

“That’s strong,” you cough slightly, face pulled back in a grimace. “Haven’t had any real shit in a long, long time.”

“Yeah, well.” He glances over at you, brown eyes warm and bright in the dancing flame between you, as the corner of his mouth tips up in a small smile. “Don’t get used to it, Bambi.”

“You sure they won’t miss these?” You ask him, curiously. Despite the burn, you bring the bottle up to your lips again, seeking the numbness that is sure to follow.

He takes another long chug, releasing his mouth with another hiss. “I stashed ‘em here. Guess I should feel lucky they didn’t drink them.”

“Guess so.”

Silence falls again. Or, what can be considered silence beyond the buzz of insects in the dark. You both continue to silently nurse your bottles – you more gently than him – as the red hues of the sun disappear into the navy blue blanket of stars.

When you glance over at Eddie, he has his head hanging back, the base of his skull resting on the back of the rocking chair, baring his throat to the night. He looks exhausted but at rest. Like the alcohol is finally lulling him into some semblance of ease. His legs are splayed wide with the bottle resting between them, hands loosely resting on his thighs. The salt and pepper scruff on his jaw grown thicker than when you’d first met him and his hair pulled back haphazardly.

It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Completely unguarded. Even with you right there beside him.

Which makes him breaking the silence first even more terrifying.

“I think I owe you an apology.”

You try not to tense too much in response, looking over at him again. His head is still facing up but his eyes are open now, trained on the stars above you both.

While you can think of a few things, you’re still unsure exactly what he might be referring to. “I feel like I might regret asking this but, for what?”

His hands shift in his lap, tensing into fists before relaxing again. Shoulders rising and falling in a heaving sigh, his eyes pinch closed again. “I haven’t exactly treated you fairly since we met. I…” He trails off, head slowly lulling forward to glance at you before sticking to the ground before him. He clears his throat before continuing again. “Your dad and I never liked each other very much, for a lot of reasons. The biggest one being how he treated Rob.”

You can’t help but cut him off there, confusion apparently in your face. “What do you mean how he treated Robin?”

Eyes shifting over to you nervously, he takes another swig before explaining. “I’m sure you know the story - your dad and Rob’s mom had her really young, didn’t know what they were doing, all that. You probably heard the sugarcoated version but your dad just kinda up and left them. Didn’t really call, definitely didn’t visit. Moved on… Started a new family.”

Your heart burns then, sorrow and guilt pulling you in different directions. A new family – your family.

“Robin never blamed you, or your mom for that matter. She’s never had anything but good things to say about you.” He’s quick to add, making minimal eye contact with you as he continues to explain. “But I did. I was real protective of Rob around the time your dad came back around wanting to make amends. I remember how much it hurt her. And I think a part of me always blamed you for that.”

Definitely not what you were expecting, you don’t say another word, waiting to see if he’ll keep going. It’s a bit painful; knowing he disliked you for something that couldn’t have possibly been your fault. Almost like he hated you just for being born.

“Anyway, that wasn’t cool or fair of me. The fault was always with your dad and his choices. So… I’m sorry.”

While the sentiment is appreciated, it’s still hard to swallow. You counteract the choking feeling it leaves in your throat with another sip of hard liquor.

“Thanks for telling me.” You offer softly. While you might not be ready to forgive him or even to accept it, you’re still at least grateful to understand a little better why your relationship had seemed doomed from the start.

His chest rumbles in a hum of acknowledgment, turning his attention to his bottle again. You let that hang in the air for a little longer before you speak up again. “What were some of the other reasons?” You ask curiously, looking anywhere but his face. He mumbles a ‘huh?’, urging you to clarify. “You said there were a lot of reasons you and him didn’t like each other. What else?”

You see him grapple with the question, rolling it around in his mouth as he figures out how to chew it. The liquor has definitely loosened him, mentally and physically. Maybe you shouldn’t press for more info like this but… Maybe this is your only chance.

“He tracked me down a few years ago. 2011, I think. It was a week after… After my Uncle Wayne died.” His voice is thick with emotion now, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he remembers it. “He asked me to help him with something – something big. But I… We argued. Barely held back from punching him square in the jaw a couple times. He said a lot of shit about ‘expecting more from me’ as if he knew me at all,” he let out a bitter chuckle, his head shaking slightly.

“I was in a lot of pain,” he admits, slightly choked up. You’re shocked still, not sure how to handle this turn of events. Should I comfort him? Let him talk through it? Ask more questions? “I told him to go fuck himself and he called me a selfish bastard. And we kept our distance from each other after that. I’m sure he’s probably rolling in his grave right now knowing I’m one of the people escorting you around.” A huff of a laugh at that, bringing the bottle back up to his lips before his eyes widen and glance your direction. “Sorry.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “No, uh… Don’t worry about it.”

Suddenly feeling yourself scramble for something else to say or some way to keep the conversation going, you put your foot right in your mouth by asking, “What happened to your Uncle Wayne?”

He looks at you, shock and maybe even offense clear on his face, and you wince as you kick yourself mentally. What kind of question is that? What the fuck do you think happened to him, idiot –

“Cancer, actually.”

Not sure if you’re more shocked by that response or the fact that he actually answered, you focus in on his face now to make sure he knows he has your attention.

“He worked in a factory for years and years before everything fell apart and smoked a shit ton. Lungs started giving out a couple years after everything fell apart. Coughing blood, wheezin’, the whole thing. Wasn’t really much anyone could do, everything being like it is.”

He pauses to take another long gulp of liquor, the points of his cheekbones tinged pink with it. Or maybe emotion, it’s hard to tell in the candlelight. “Did everything we could but he, uh… Decided he was ready. Said he didn’t wanna wait around for the day he tried to take a breath and couldn’t. So I helped him out to a church in a small town that’d already been picked clean. Held his hand while he said his prayers. Gave him a hug. Gave him a pistol.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, Eddie’s gaze far off. Reliving the moments in his head. “Went outside and shut the doors. Waited… waited until the shot went off.” His hand harshly clasps over his mouth as he leans forward, nearly knocking the bottle to the floor as he leans his face away. You can still see the reflection of the tears escaping his eyes.

The softest whisper you can muster, you twist your fists in the blanket in your lap. “Eddie… I’m so sorry.”

His face pinches tight, tears spilling out of his closed eyes, as he shakes off the feeling and rights himself again. “Better end than most people get nowadays,” he admits, voice rough and dismissive. “Least he got to decide on his own terms. Not everybody gets that chance.”

Pained by his dismissal but accepting this is how he needs it to be, you give a solemn nod. After Memphis, you’ve learned your lesson about pushing him.

“Haven’t talked about that in a long time,” he adds with an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his scruff with the palm of his hand. And while there are still tears in his eyes, he looks a little bit lighter. A little bit more free. Your mind flashes to the church in Memphis – Eddie staring up at the missing head of Jesus in reverence, a pistol strapped to his belt.

Searching for something.

You tip forward, the chair creaking as you rest your feet on the ground below you. He looks over at the noise, watching as you lift your bottle towards his in an offering.

“To doing things on your own terms,” you toast quietly, a small smile on your face.

He blinks at you a few times before a small smile tugs at his own face again. Eventually, the bottom edge of his bottle gently clinks against your own.

“To doing things on your own terms.”

August 25th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

It’s with a lot of difficulty that you blink your eyes open from a dead sleep – heavy lids and crusty corners protesting the smallest movement. Warmth surrounds you, coaxing you back to rest and away from the headache that is already starting to appear behind your eyes. It must be very early based on the blue toned light that comes in through the window, which you’re not even conscious enough to realize is not in the same spot as it was yesterday.

Barely aware of anything other than how comfortable you are right now and how much you have to pee, you groan softly before attempting to move.

You freeze up when there’s an answering groan from behind you and the weight around your waist tightens to pull you back in.

Shocked fully awake now, you take stock of your surroundings. You’re in a bed you’ve never seen before. There’s a half empty bottle of liquor on the floor beside you. Your pants are gone. And there’s a tattooed forearm wrapped tightly around your torso, belonging to the warm body lining your back. Hot air coasts along the back of your shoulders, the slightest hint of scruff on your skin, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his sleeping chest.

You’re in bed with Eddie. And you don’t remember how you got here.

Heart starting to pound in your chest, you try to calm yourself from spiraling with questions, many of them starting and ending with why am I not wearing pants–

He shifts behind you and you hold your breath, waiting to see if he’s waking up. You remember he drank a lot more than you so, with any luck, you’ll be able to extract yourself from this situation before anything too horribly awkward happens. When he falls still again, curled tight to the back of you, you cycle through your options.

First and worst, make a scene. Scramble out of the bed, shouting and hiding the fact that you’re half undressed, and mortify both of you in the process. Absolutely not.

Second, try to slowly and carefully remove yourself from his hold. Maybe you could replace yourself with a pillow or something, give him something else to hold onto. Or maybe just remove yourself and make a break for the door, hoping he doesn’t wake up in the 5 seconds between and realize what happened.

Third, accept this is your life now. After all, it’s really comfortable. He’s warm and holding you tight – comforting and safe. Feeling his breath across the back of your neck. You feel like you could drift right off again if not for the slight pressure of something against your lower back…

You need to get up. Now.

Like you’re the worst secret agent navigating the worst bank vault ever seen, you somehow manage to extract yourself from Eddie’s surprisingly tight grip. He moans in disapproval but remains asleep, bringing a pillow in to tuck against his chest in a poor replacement. If it wasn’t for the nearly empty bottle on his bedside table, this surely would’ve gone a whole lot worse.

Taking a few moments to admire his sleeping form in the early morning light – the crows feets beside his eyes only noticeable as tan lines, the harshly indented wrinkles between his brows smoothed over – you rush out of the room when he adjusts again just in case he’s waking up.

You make a pit stop in the room you stayed in the previous night, grabbing a pair of pants from the piles of clothes on the floor, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

After a quick wee, you appraise yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess. As messy as it normally gets with sleep, you tell yourself. You don’t have any hickies or other noticeable signs of something less “friendly” happening. In fact, it really just feels like you had the best sleep you’ve had in years, not including the rapidly progressing hangover you’re experiencing now. Still, you think back to last night, trying to remember how you might have ended up in Eddie’s bed.

After he told you about Wayne, the two of you ended up reminiscing on other people you’d both lost along the way. Your school friends, his band mates (other than Jeff), both your parents, a few of the friends he made in high school. A little bit of pondering where you both would be now if the world hadn’t gone to shit. He talked a little bit about Memphis and what he’d lost, which you listened to intently. Then… Nothing.

Resting a hand against your forehead as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you’re terrified to realize you can’t remember what happened between the two of you sitting on the porch and when you woke up in his arms this morning.

What the hell did you do?

i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!!!!! well guess what!!!! you haven't.

i obviously went a lot longer than i wanted before updating this but i have never, ever stopped thinking about it. i still have it all fleshed out in my head and i will finish it if it kills me. i appreciate your patience in the meantime.

and let me know what you think!! comments and reblogs mean the world <3

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